A cruel death
Tuesday, November 2nd, 2004
There's a lamp on Beloved Other Half's desk. It's just an ordinary lamp with the standard bell-shaped top almost entirely filled by the bulb. We usually have it pointing towards the ceiling – it gives a good light in a dark corner.
Smoke just started streaming out of it.
I figured it was the electrics frying, so I went over a bit sharpish to switch it off. As I did so, my memory did a quick rewind-and-replay and told me there had been noises in the room's main lightshade, and then from over by the desk lamp.
I shielded my eyes from the direct light of the bulb, so I could see behind it in the depths of the lamp's bell.
Sure enough, there was a moth lying rigid against the metalwork, ready to burst into flame at any second.
I switched the lamp off and when the bulb had cooled I took it out and shook the moth's body into a bin.
There's probably a metaphor there somewhere.