I sat on the edge of the bath with my feet dangling in hot soapy water. It’s such a fun way to relax after a tiring day and it’s the cosiest place in the house. This is because it’s small, tiled in burnt orange and has a warm floor. But being situated in the middle of the house, a light illuminates the room instead of a window.
As I stared at the bubbles, it suddenly went dark. Pitch black. Giggles could be heard from outside as an over-tired 9 year old scuttled into bed. How many times had she mischievously turned the light out on me pretending that she didn’t know I was there?
I stayed where I was, looking around at nothing. After about 3 minutes, I could barely make out the outline of the taps to my left. A further 2 minutes revealed the toothbrush holder and I could just make out one of the ducks painted below the rim.
It suddenly occurred to me that the more time we spend in the dark, the more used to it we become, until we are no longer uncomfortable with it’s surroundings. What was once scary and unknown, slowly becomes familiar. Yes it was true. I was no longer bothered about being in the light as my eyes were getting accustomed to the darkness.