Jessi cursed as the match burned down to her fingers, and she shook her hand violently, throwing the now spent wood to the tile floor of the kitchen before thrusting her fingers into her mouth.  Damn it, where did these people keep their candles?<br/><br/>She'd pretty much scoured the kitchen.  Going partly by feel, she made her way to the bathroom.  Striking another of her precious matches, she checked under the sink.  Ah ha!  A large, lavender scented candle!  And unused by the look of it.  Probably a gift, one of those things you get at office parties when you don't really know what to get for the other person.  She blew the dust off it, then peeled off the plastic wrap.  Using the small scissors on her Swiss army knife, she trimmed the wick and lit it.<br/><br/>The glow was warm and reassuring, but it made her frown.  That sort of light might draw evil to her.  She left the candle in the bathroom, and returned to her bedroom.  It took a while for her eyes to readjust to the dim moonlight, but eventually she found the clothes she wanted: sports bra, tank top, light flannel shirt, socks, and her hiking boots.  Pulling on her jeans was the first thing she'd done when the lights went out.  She stripped off her nightie, then put on the bra before carrying the rest of her things back to the bathroom.<br/><br/>After getting dressed, she took stock while she considered what to do.  She had... a dozen... no, sixteen matches left.  Her small crucifix around her neck.  Silver chain, small bottle of salt, and Bible, just in case.  Oh, and her bokken, where was that?  Back in the bedroom.  She fetched it, then returned to the bathroom.  Sitting on the toilet, she returned to going through her backpack.<br/><br/>Umbrella, first-aid kit, light windbreaker (yeah, like she'd need that), a roll of thin nylon rope...  She'd taken out her horse brush and hoof-pick that normally resided in the side pocket.  She hadn't thought she'd need them in Japan.  She still had the compass, but that seemed to be acting oddly.  She grimaced when she opened the small back pocket.  Normally, this is where her spare ammo would have been.  Damned Japanese and their damned, stupid gun control laws.<br/><br/>She tossed in a change of socks and underwear, zipped up her pack, then frowned at herself in the mirror.  The candlelight was soft and warm, and it made her feel safe.<br/><br/>What should she do?  Time had stopped, somehow, or slowed for the rest of the world.  But not her.  Why not her?  Was she the only one not affected?  This had the feeling of some sort of supernatural disaster, the magical equivalent of an earthquake or something.  Had the monsters been frozen, too?  Or were the streets even now crawling will all sorts of evil, eager to take advantage of a helpless mortal world, trapped between tick and tock?<br/><br/>She blew out the candle, but carried it carefully with her back to her room with the pack and the bokken.  Pushing the curtains aside just enough to see the street below, she watched and waited, to see if anything or anyone made an appearance.