Dying Day

That was strange right from the start. It was 6am, and Peter was already up - what could have got him out of bed? Then I heard the band. The indescribably bad brass band, hopelessly out of tune and out of time - with the beat and with each other - clawing their way from note to almost the next note ... There were several drums playing along, trying to keep up with each other and with the other instruments. I heard them torture something that resembled "What a friend we have in Jesus", and then - was that "Unchained Melody" ... well, there were a few notes there.

Another funeral, I suppose. No wonder Peter was up and at the computer reading the world news. I had a novel by the bed which I had almost finished, so I switched on the bedside lamp and got into it.

At seven-thirty, with an final agonised sigh, the music died. And at precisely the same moment the lamp went off, and the computer ... the power was off. Quickly, have a shower before the hot water cools, and go toast some bread over the gas.

When the power finally came back on late in the afternoon I was out at work but Peter was home. I was travelling back to town on the work bus when Peter rang. "I don't want you to panic when you get home and find the computer is gone. The power outage did something to Windows and the whole thing has crashed ... "

That was three days ago. And now here I am, back from the 'dead'!