The storm hit just after dinner. One moment Priya was watching her favourite show; the next, the television went black, the fridge stopped humming and the whole house fell silent.

'Blackout,' said Dad from the kitchen. 'Nobody move.'

Priya heard a drawer open and the rattle of a torch rolling across the bench. Then a thin beam of light swung around the room and landed on her little brother, Arun, who was standing frozen in the hallway with his mouth open.

'I don't like it,' Arun whispered.

'Come on,' said Priya. 'Let's find the candles.'

Together they dug through the cupboard under the stairs. They found three candles, a box of matches, a second torch with flat batteries and, right at the back, an old board game that nobody had played for years. Dad lit the candles and stood them in jam jars on the kitchen table. The flames made the room glow gold, and the shadows of the chairs stretched long and tall up the walls.

Outside, the rain drummed on the tin roof and the wind shook the gum tree in the yard. Inside, the family sat around the table and opened the dusty box.

At first Arun kept glancing at the dark window. But soon he was laughing as Dad landed on Priya's hotel for the third time in a row and had to hand over most of his pretend money. Mum heated milk on the gas stove for hot chocolate, and they drank it by candlelight while the storm grumbled away over the hills.

When the lights snapped back on at nine o'clock, Arun groaned. 'Can we turn them off again?' he asked.

Priya smiled. She had been thinking exactly the same thing.