The lamp wouldn't turn on. He clicked it once, and twice. He tapped the bare bulb, once he'd removed the lampshade. He followed the cord down to the wall and unplugged and plugged it back in.

He dug in the drawer in the kitchen and found a new bulb but it didn't fit, so he dug some more and found another, smaller bulb and it did fit but still the damned lamp wouldn't turn on.

At the power box, he switched the breaker, killing the power for a moment to the living room, setting the VCR back to high noon. He switched the switch at the door, once, twice, all the while staring at the lamp. He felt that anger growing inside him. That anger. Hated that anger.

The lamp was new. There was no reason for this. Unless the store had ripped him off. Could they have... really? The anger, becoming more like fury, becoming furious, that fury welled inside him when he looked at the lamp, and the dark corner of the room, where he'd planned to read. It was going to be his reading corner, but now that would have to be put aside.

He couldn't do anything. He tried to cook some dinner, but he kept glancing at the lamp. He tried to watch the tv, but the couch was right next to the lamp and he could see it out of the corner of his eye. He lay down on the bed, but when he opened his eyes that dark corner seemed to suck the light from the apartment.

So he stood over the lamp. He removed the bulb. He turned on the switch. It wouldn't make a difference, if the stupid thing didn't work. Would it? This is what he'd do to the guy who sold it to him. Stick him tongue in it.

The lights flickered.