HELLO. WELCOME HOME. We’ve missed you, just me and that noisy fridge you have there. You really should look into that thing. It’s been interrupting my thoughts. One minute I’m on to something and the next I’m thinking about what an obtuse thing a refrigerator is. I can tell by that sidelong of yours that you’re going to ignore my simple request. Look at you, heading right for it. Sure, your beloved leftover biscuits and gravy are held safely within at a nice and stable 41.7 degrees, but have you ever given a thought to how dominating that thing is on your life?

Just look at it. It’s easily the largest item in your possession. It was here long before you moved in and there is no way you will bring it with you to your next apartment. I assume, you say? I think not, just look at you, you’re easily manipulated. I mean, the shutting of the refrigerator door carries more weight in the conversation than you do. You struggle to make yourself heard over the sound of the microwave as it nukes your pitiful dried bacon crisps into atoms. No, I see at least two more rental situations before you ever mature enough settle down with a nice woman and make a home for yourself.

Not that you can trust the new models – a cool 41.7 degrees is a perfect temperature to keep sensors from malfunctioning in the summer heat. Oh, of course you don’t believe me, you’re plugged into the grid, you are. Right where they want you. Working a job to pay your bills and just enough left over to buy their appliances. You’re a data point in the grander scheme of democracy and capitalism as they march down the church aisle in organised religious matrimony.

How are your biscuits?

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Read the rest of this quirky business in SN14: Twilight Zone, coming out May 11th!

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