A few times this past month, Albie and I have come home from work to find the light in our upstairs bedroom turned on.
“Did you forget to turn it off?” I asked Albie, and he always said “no.”
When our alarm went off this morning, I woke up to find the overhead light on again. I know it was off when we both went to sleep, and neither of us had been up during the night. It was a bit creepy.
One of our two lights in the basement has been out for a few days. Albie replaced the bulb, but the new one wouldn’t work. As I was painting in the basement today, I figured I should try the light just to make sure. I took the energy bulb out of the socket and shook it – it made a rattling sound.
After replacing it, I flipped the switch in the hallway. The light down in the basement remained off. I opened the door to the garage, stretched my hand out into the dark, and tried that switch, and voila! The basement filled with light.
I started painting some pieces of trim, now drenched in light. First, though, I had shut the cats out and closed the doors both to the upstairs and to the garage. All of a sudden, the light goes off. My heart starts beating faster.
Since both doors are closed, I cannot see either light switch. Is someone standing on the other side? Did someone just come into our house?
Heart pounding, I slowly open the door to the hallway. Nobody there. Armed with a paint brush, I open the door to the garage. Empty. I leave the doors open and decide to finish painting. A few minutes later, the light comes on again.
I guess Albie was telling the truth after all.