I remember sitting in our living room, watching TV when it happened. The house went dark. We had power outages before, but this one was different. It was so quiet. No more roar from the electric heating system, or from the fridge, hell even the lights made some noise, but not anymore.
We hoped it was like before, half an hour without power and it would all be over. Our teenager complained because his X-Box stopped working. “I’m bored” he complained, but it was no use. “Get the generator going, I want to go back online with my friends” he said. The generator purred for a few hours, at which time we tried the radio, but that too was dead, no broadcasts from anywhere. I even pulled out my old two wave, set it to any country with a voice, but that too was silent. Of course the X-Box idea never worked, no internet.
The folks with cabins fared the best, as they had wood stoves to heat the place, and the owners were used to the silence. We weren’t so lucky. Our furnace burned oil, but the fan was powered by electricity. We almost froze the first night, mostly covered with blankets and huddled together.
That was five years ago. The kids didn’t last long, most took their own lives. Couldn’t live without their games and imaginary lives I guess. Our kid was no different. We found him one day, huddled up in his bedroom next to his game system, so depressed he just didn’t want to move on. It took his mom almost a year to get over it, but she knew if we were to survive, we would have to do like the others, and leave our old lives behind.
We joined a group of people, the ones with the most food and heat. The little bit of oil still in our tank was our way in, something to offer the others.
“It’s raining outside. I hate the rain!” complained Charlie.
“Look, its starting to freeze, soon winter will be here. Nothing I hate more than winter!”
“The snow, its covering the window, can’t see a damn thing!”
“Will you shut your trap? All you do is complain about what’s happening outside your damn window. At least you are strong enough to look out the window, not stuck here in the bed too weak to move like me!” said Charlie’s roommate, an old man on the verge of death.
Conversations like this are common in Sunnyville Retirement Home.
This bleak reminder of what is to come for many is my entry into this week’s Friday Fictioneers. This Holiday season, try to take some time to visit someone living in a retirement home. Many of the residents of these homes have no family around them, and often spend their Christmas and other holidays alone.
Harvey Winston ran his business for years before going public, so when he attended his first board of directors meeting, he was in dismay.
The engineer displayed the latest in office technology, the Techno Toilet.
“The toilet is fully automatic, it flushes automatically. A warm stream of water cleans you. Instead of staring at a stall door, a LCD screen scrolls out the latest stock information.” As he babbled on, he noticed Harvey had disappeared from the room.
Harvey was found sitting on an old toilet in an abandoned shed.
“I don’t need a Techno-Crapper, this one suits me fine!”
In Canada, on November 11 we celebrate Remembrance Day to remember those who fought to keep this country safe. This is my tribute to those whose battles only begin on the battlefield. I have linked up to Rochelle Wisoff-Fields’ Friday Fictioneers .
“Friggin’ Ramea, the most boring place on the planet” thought Michael, as the MV Gallipoli made it’s way across the rough water and headed towards the mainland.
Michael grew up in Ramea, a tiny island of less than 600 people, located off the coast of Newfoundland. Michael’s family were primarily fishermen, and the fishery has been in steady decline these days.
When the ferry finally docked, Michael jumped out and began waving his hands and hollering.
“Now that I am in the big city, the sky’s the limit” thought Michael, as he glanced at the sign.
WELCOME TO BURGEO, NL. POPULATION 1146
This tale of bettering yourself in the ‘big city’ is brought to you by the fine folks at Friday Fictioneers. Be sure to click on the froggy for more stories based on this weeks’ photo prompt.
“Yes sir, I want to return this bread, it has a hole in it!”
“I am sorry, we have a policy. No returns if half the bun is eaten!”
“How was I supposed to know there was a hole?” asked the disgruntled customer.
“We cannot help it, that’s how bread is!” said the confused clerk.
“I cannot even spread butter without covering my hands with it!”
“You are looking at this all wrong. This is a special loaf of bread, it’s made with flour, water, yeast and the baker’s special ingredient.” said the clerk.
The clerk replied “Love.”
PHOTO PROMPT Kelvin M. Knight
Last week I wrote quite the shocker. I received more negative comments than ever before. I promised the people who were repulsed by my story that this week, Things would be different, less gritty and repulsive. I hope this helps redeem my reputation.