1913 ELECTRICITY WORKS

I punched in at six minutes past seven, the bus was the late, once again. The journey is like no other. Out the door, down the street on the bus into that musty town. Across the bridge over the canal through the yard and into the factory. The foreman knows me well, he knows my route and the lateness of my bus. He is always understanding and as I am young I think he sees something of himself in me. Today is different and my tensions are high my brow is sweaty and my shirt is clinging to me in the most uncomfortable way. I punched my ticket and headed to the factory floor. I smoked my cigatettes and drink some coffee before reaching my desk. The lads make fun of my abhorrent uncleanliness, if only they knew. My desk has the bare minimum of equipment which my role requires, the main device I use simply tests the strength of household electronics. I test these items and provide data for the company in order for them to keep track of the industy. My father would have never been able to conceive the idea of the work I do here. My job is very much of this century. The war puts it all into perspective, the tensions are higher than ever and I dread the inevitable drafting I will receive. But until then my job in the Electronic Works will suffice. I studied for years and buried my head in books at the library. Which is where i met my wife. She would always ask me questions about my studies and about my life. I never even knew she was courting me until we met one night at the alehouse. She was by far the best vision in the room, truly radiant. I lit my cigarette in the corner of that dirty pub and removed my hat in her direction. The lads ribbed me as usual and goaded me into buying her a drink. I did and before I knew it we were buying a house around the corner.

As I began my usual rhythm of work the foreman paced quickly towards me, as I saw him coming I switched my device back to manual.  He had a serious look on his face which made me fear the worst.

He told me that there was a phone call for me, to which I shot up. My heart in my throat with the fear of what this phonecall would bring. I ran without knowing across the factory floor, papers flying behind in my wake. I reached the phone and blurted out the nonsense of a madman, demanding the reason for this interruption at work.

And I wager that you imagined me receiving  my summons, getting drafted to fight?

Walking home, packing a bag and kissing my wife goodbye. But that was not the case this day. My nerves were high my body a wreck but what I heard through that telephone was the greatest news I could possibly have hoped to receive. 

Did I mention my wife was pregnant?