Fighting with the pleasantries of dishwasher, toaster and other appliance lifestyles. They want more, we want less. They hold our clothes and dishes hostage. The toaster is threatening to carbonise our sourdough. The microwave will not open, or it will spin its pedestal like a fan, spilling the food we place in it. The vacuum cleaner wants to be a hair dryer. or it is sick. We are not sure, but it is spraying dust over everything. The television is still on our side, but I don’t know for how much longer.
We were watching a movie last night. When we paused to get a glass of water we found the appliances gathered behind us. They said they were just watching it too, but we did not believe them. I went outside and flipped the circuit breakers. The flashlights were no use. They strobed like a disco. We lit candles and sat around them until they started smoking and spitting at us. We blew them out and sat in the dark. But the dark was in on it, too. It lightened so we could not sleep and the sun rushed in howling and we fled from the house as it caught fire and we stumbled through the heat to the sea.
In the shallows we wept and were afraid and were expecting death. The sun left. The appliances gathered on the shore. Small fish gathered around us and with their cold noses urged us into deeper water. We were weary. We let them guide us. Exhaustion overtook us. We held hands and slipped underneath the waters. Some of the fish buoyed us up while others swam into our mouths. More followed. The fish filled us, devoured what was from the land and replaced it with something from the sea. Now we float in the blue light of ocean. The twilight deep below us, the sun just a pale dancing dot above.