The Roll of Thunder
The Stone Ages
For centuries the human race had survived without electricity, plumbing and gas. They slept at sunset, awoke at sunrise, there was the lighting figured out. They washed in rivers…or didn't wash at all, there was the plumbing sorted. And they were real hunters and made fire from wood and stones as opposed to the clicker on the stove to ignite the spark to light up the gas, there was the gas problem solved.
For centuries they lived that way. So why, why did it prove to be a catastrophe, that there was not one of them three things in my home at the moment? I wasn't sure whether it was the fact that I was now well into the twenty first century and living in the stone ages wasn't for me, or the fact that the bills had been lingering on the dining table for weeks, underneath my housemate's ironing pile.
I'm pretty sure it might well have been the bills hidden by the lack or my roommate's organization skills and therefore laziness, but I'm willing to create a new reason all together and go with the I like washing outside, eating out of tins and using the neighbour's toilet.
Combining his all together laziness and disorganization skills, I came to the firm conclusion that although we were now degraded to the stone ages, he could still go out and earn a good living to buy us back our twenty first century luxuries, and he's also been delegated to buy me one hell of a chocolate bar to make up for the trauma I'm suffering.
He held up a fight but I think I won when I declared that he could go live with his parents if he really wanted. I'm pretty sure they were the reason he was living in my hovel as opposed to his own anyway. If not I'd made a grave mistake when I'd gotten that special cake made that had icing on top that spelt out: I'm sorry your parents hate you.
Without electricity or gas, I'd now resorted to eating from the take away at the end of my street. So sitting in the front room, delicately lit up with about seventy candles, eating my dinner from small silver foil containers, I was thoroughly enjoying myself. My housemate was due back from his new job any minute now, with hopefully, a first paycheck where he'd donate a fair amount of cash to buying back our essentials.
When the door swung open and shut, I pointed absent minded to some sealed tin foil tubs on the kitchen table. He stood and followed my arm direction until he realised that there was potential food available.
"You got me rice!" he wailed happily, tucking in with his hands as opposed to the small fork I'd gotten free. He emptied the first tin into his bottomless pit of a mouth and was half way through his second when he paused momentarily, pulling out an envelope from his trousers pocket and launching at me. Only being paper, it fluttered to the ground pathetically about a metre in front of me. "Fayfeck," he mumbled, his mouth full of food. I deciphered his Stone Age talk and nodded eagerly, swiping up the envelope and pulling out the cheque. It wasn't a lot, but it was a start. I grinned at him and he returned it, half of his mouthful of rice falling down his chest.
"I need you to help me after your feast on rice." I spoke slyly. He swallowed his food to speak this time.
"If it's taking pictures of me, mind if I breathe on the lens? I look so much better that way." I looked at him blankly.
"Tristan. Anyone looks good with a fogged lens. I'd look like Marilyn Monroe if I was looked at through a fogged window." He shrugged.
"I'd always pertained that you might look more like Marilyn Manson through fogged glass." I glared at him but gave up when he smiled angelically with rice stuck in his teeth.
"Anyway, did anyone ever teach you not to talk with food in your mouth?" He shook his head.
"Never listened. Didn't see the point." He grinned again, even more rice now adding that extra sparkle to his smile.
"Well, listen now, if you smile at me with rice in your teeth again, I won't make you dinner again. Ever." He looked shocked almost and there was silence upon us for a fair few minutes.
"Wait a minute! You don't cook dinner for me!" I shrugged and turned my attention to the dying television.
"Well if I did I wouldn’t cook any for you." I continued to stare at the television, wishing that it might spring into life miraculously so that I could watch Time Team or maybe even America's Dumbest Criminals.
For centuries they lived that way. So why, why did it prove to be a catastrophe, that there was not one of them three things in my home at the moment? I wasn't sure whether it was the fact that I was now well into the twenty first century and living in the stone ages wasn't for me, or the fact that the bills had been lingering on the dining table for weeks, underneath my housemate's ironing pile.
I'm pretty sure it might well have been the bills hidden by the lack or my roommate's organization skills and therefore laziness, but I'm willing to create a new reason all together and go with the I like washing outside, eating out of tins and using the neighbour's toilet.
Combining his all together laziness and disorganization skills, I came to the firm conclusion that although we were now degraded to the stone ages, he could still go out and earn a good living to buy us back our twenty first century luxuries, and he's also been delegated to buy me one hell of a chocolate bar to make up for the trauma I'm suffering.
He held up a fight but I think I won when I declared that he could go live with his parents if he really wanted. I'm pretty sure they were the reason he was living in my hovel as opposed to his own anyway. If not I'd made a grave mistake when I'd gotten that special cake made that had icing on top that spelt out: I'm sorry your parents hate you.
Without electricity or gas, I'd now resorted to eating from the take away at the end of my street. So sitting in the front room, delicately lit up with about seventy candles, eating my dinner from small silver foil containers, I was thoroughly enjoying myself. My housemate was due back from his new job any minute now, with hopefully, a first paycheck where he'd donate a fair amount of cash to buying back our essentials.
When the door swung open and shut, I pointed absent minded to some sealed tin foil tubs on the kitchen table. He stood and followed my arm direction until he realised that there was potential food available.
"You got me rice!" he wailed happily, tucking in with his hands as opposed to the small fork I'd gotten free. He emptied the first tin into his bottomless pit of a mouth and was half way through his second when he paused momentarily, pulling out an envelope from his trousers pocket and launching at me. Only being paper, it fluttered to the ground pathetically about a metre in front of me. "Fayfeck," he mumbled, his mouth full of food. I deciphered his Stone Age talk and nodded eagerly, swiping up the envelope and pulling out the cheque. It wasn't a lot, but it was a start. I grinned at him and he returned it, half of his mouthful of rice falling down his chest.
"I need you to help me after your feast on rice." I spoke slyly. He swallowed his food to speak this time.
"If it's taking pictures of me, mind if I breathe on the lens? I look so much better that way." I looked at him blankly.
"Tristan. Anyone looks good with a fogged lens. I'd look like Marilyn Monroe if I was looked at through a fogged window." He shrugged.
"I'd always pertained that you might look more like Marilyn Manson through fogged glass." I glared at him but gave up when he smiled angelically with rice stuck in his teeth.
"Anyway, did anyone ever teach you not to talk with food in your mouth?" He shook his head.
"Never listened. Didn't see the point." He grinned again, even more rice now adding that extra sparkle to his smile.
"Well, listen now, if you smile at me with rice in your teeth again, I won't make you dinner again. Ever." He looked shocked almost and there was silence upon us for a fair few minutes.
"Wait a minute! You don't cook dinner for me!" I shrugged and turned my attention to the dying television.
"Well if I did I wouldn’t cook any for you." I continued to stare at the television, wishing that it might spring into life miraculously so that I could watch Time Team or maybe even America's Dumbest Criminals.