X.i. Nick in the Dark

"It is easy in experimentation to be deceived and to think one has seen and discovered what we desire to see and discover."
- Luigi Galvani

The five days or less of darkness promised to me by the energy company took on a life of their own as the summer heat arrived in Bologna. Embracing an enforced ecological lifestyle, I began to spend an inordinate amount of time in various civic and university libraries, most of which are air-conditioned and at least more conducive to study than a darkened apartment. My meals, eaten by lamplight, took on a timeless air and were refreshing in their tepidity, harkening back to a time before leftovers were even possible. Even the staff at Plenty Market took note as my visits became more frequent. Showering was less pleasant, and reminded me of a summer I spent in rural France some years back, with a cousin who found it unnecessary to pay the summer heating oil bills.
    My friends John and Bronwen, stopping for floorspace in Bologna on their European tour, had offered to take Sarah and I out for dinner to Nicola's, a local pizzeria. The following day the four of us even went to Pisa to see a Cimabue exhibit, all of us feeling like exiles under the sunny skies of Western Tuscany.
    It was only as time went on that I realized exactly what the Enel had meant; five working days. In Italy this was to be expected of an electrical company.
    It was, of course, the beginning of June, and consequently time for the much celebrated Festa della Republica, the closest thing to an Italian national holiday. Held on a Thursday, the following Friday was thus interpreted by the vast majority of the population, including Enel, as a holiday as well. My electricity, then, would not be forthcoming for the better part of a week. In the hallway electrical cabinet, the fusebox for my apartment continued to display an agonizing pair of red lights. Dr. Caramori, for his part, was sympathetic but of little help as he is seldom in Bologna.
    "Perhaps you could talk to them, Doctor?" I naively asked.
    "Nicholas, honestly, it's like talking to a wall," he replied, indicating to what extent even his accreditations were useless in the face of the tenebrous challenges that faced me and my early summer.