If I don’t flick this light switch on five times, a member of my family will die. Five of us in total, one flick per person.

I don’t like odd numbers. If I flick the switch five more times that will equal ten, an even number. But that will be more than five times, twice more than the number I need. 

I have thirty seconds to decide before the clock strikes 5pm. Five o’clock is when I flick the kitchen sockets on to start dinner.

Time is not an odd number. 

Time is relative and how many relatives do I have? Five. 

Flick. Flick. Flick. Flick. Flick.

Dash for the kitchen, five seconds left. 

Flick-kettle. Flick-microwave. Flick-oven. Flick-steamer. Flick-coffee maker.

Clock strikes 5pm; made it in the nick of time.

I don’t even need all these things for tea. I’m only having five chicken nuggets with five splashes of ketchup. I could turn off four and leave one on. 

Four plus one equals five, maybe?

Yes, it’ll work. I haven’t done it before but the power of five is there. 

Flick. Flick. Flick. Flick. 

Nope, I don’t like it. Flick oven off. Five times. I guess I’m not having tea.

The phone rings five times before I answer.

“Hello, who’s speaking please?”

There are sobs. “John, John, John. It’s Mum, Mum, Mum.” Her power of three. “It’s your dad, dad, dad. He’s dead, dead, dead.” Her voice becomes a whisper.

“What happened, Mum? Tell me?”

“I don’t know.” More sobs. “Did you change with the power of five?” The world crashes. “Did you change with the power of five?” I hear the echo. “Did you change with the power of five?” 

*

Natalie Horner is from South Yorkshire and lives with her husband, son, and a cat called Puss. While continually adding books to her TBR pile, she has completed her first novel and is working towards publication. Twitter/X: @WriterNat1122