The lights downstairs keep shorting out- and instead of trekking down to the cellar- again- to flip the switch I lit a candle.
As you move about with your candle you see the house in fragments. You don't see the floor; you don't see the ceiling. If there's a slug on the kitchen floor-as there so often is- too bad for both of you. The shadows of upstanding objects go wheeling past, reflective surfaces wink. If you hold the candle in front of your eyes all you see is the flame against inky blackness. To perform a simple task- like making a cup of coffee- you need to keep repositioning your candle so it lights the relevant part of the operation.
Ailz says she's going to call the electrician and get him to fix the fault. Spoil-sport! Nevertheless I mean to continue with the experiment.