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Petar Tchouhov

The Light Bulb

The rain had just woken me up and I felt thirsty. I got up clumsily, still dizzy. Passing the window, I looked out. It was dark outside, but the opposite window was bright and there were no curtains. The room was empty–no people, no furniture, no carpet, nothing on the walls. Only a dog sitting on the bare floor, staring at the light bulb. I went to the kitchen, had some mineral water and returned to the bedroom. Now the window was dark. No light, no dog, even the rain was almost invisible. I waited for a while, listening closely, then went to bed.