The Bulb (A Freewrite We-Write with @mr-neil. Freewrite prompt: bulb)

The Bulb (Part 1) by @mr-neil

Switched off. The light has gone out. What the bulb doesn't realise is that it is for the last time. The next time the switch is pressed, the bulb will pop.

We didn't expect such an obvious bang. It didn't go with a whimper, that's for sure, but I didn't know bulbs did that.

Buildings with high ceilings are fantastic in many ways. Spectacular and beautiful. Try listening to some music, how the sounds reverberates without the use of modern technology.

However, changing light bulbs is a challenge.

We need light; rather than borrow a stepladder on another day, we’ll use the sturdy kitchen chair. However, I’m just a few inches short.

We could add the Yellow Pages to give us more height. We also have the standard blue phone book lying around somewhere. We'll have to try it. It's lucky that we are still in the 1990s whilst these books exist.

I'm the tallest, it is my job. Next, I'll try the chair with the yellow pages. I'm close, very close. Must be a millimetre away now.

“I'll have to stand on tiptoes.”

End of Part 1

The Bulb (Part 2) by @scribblingramma

The light is very bright now, brighter than it has ever been before. This is very puzzling to me. Wasn’t I using a standard 60 watt bulb? Yet this light is now glaring in my eyes. I squint a little, and realize it’s not quite in focus. Why is the light directly above my face? I must by lying on the floor. I try to turn my head, but it seems to be stuck in a vise. Perhaps I should just pull myself together and figure out what’s going on. Let’s see….I was standing on the yellow pages, on a chair, and I was stretching on tip-toe to reach the light fixture…..what happened next? I’m not sure. The bright light is really bothering me now, so I blink several times. Suddenly I hear a familiar voice next to me. It’s my brother. He’s shorter than I am, so he wasn’t changing the light bulb. “Dude, you really took a tumble!” he exclaims. “You’ve been out for an hour! How’re you feeling, man?” I find my voice, and tell him, “Not so good. What’s with the bright light?” “You’re in the hospital,” he explains. “You broke a few things. They say you’ll be fine in about six months. Hey, next time let’s get a step ladder, okay?”