Blue Sparks

The lights in the house flickered, and abruptly went out. I swore, quietly. What a day for a power cut.

I stumbled my way out of my room and onto the landing. The emergency exit light was on and in the dim glow I could see Toby crouched on the floor, holding the vacuum cleaner flex and looking glum.

"What happened?" I asked him.

"Fuse has gone," he told me gloomily and I wanted to laugh. He was the picture of dejection.

“Are you sure it’s the fuse?” I asked. “Is that what tripped the power?”

“Is the power tripped?” he said in surprise, and this time I did laugh.

“Do you have any spare fuses?” I tried, knowing what the answer would be. He shook his head, and then looked up, his face bright with an idea.

“I could change the plugs over! I’ve seen it on TV, it’s easy!”

Before I could say anything he jumped up and disappeared into his room, re-emerging almost immediately with a screwdriver and a radio.

“I’m not sure this is a good idea,” I cautioned him. He ignored me, unscrewing the screws from each plug and carelessly tugging at the wires. “Toby, seriously!” I repeated, alarmed. “You don’t know what you’re doing!”

“Sure I do,” he told me confidently, and pushed the cleaner wires into the radio’s plug. “Pass me that screw?”

Uncertainly I passed him the screw, and he pushed it awkwardly into the plug.
“There we go!” he said in triumph. “Told you I could do it!”

He pushed the plug into the power socket and I jumped backwards, alarmed. “Toby, no!”

Toby pressed the switch, and in an explosion of blue sparks the flex melted, a pool of plastic solidifying on the carpet.

“Oops,” said Toby inadequately. “Sorry, Marie.”