He arrived home.  The power was out.  She stared him down.

Red and blue cords dangled from a hole in the ceiling the size of a grapefruit, clinging desperately to the battery.

She’d asked him to fix the smoke detector.  It beeped for an hour, so she fixed it herself.

Deborah Davis is an expert at ripping smoke detectors from ceilings.  She spends the rest of her spare time caring for two precious rescue dogs, gardening, and, most importantly, writing.  Her work has appeared in The Great Lakes Review, Halfway Down the Stairs, and The Bethlehem Writers’ Roundtable.