Broken Clocks

    There was once a common expression among humans; ‘Even a broken clock gets to be right twice a day.’  The reason this saying had fallen from popular use was because, in the last few decades, a new generation had emerged who had a tendency of replying to this phrase with the response, ‘Unless it’s digital.’
    In the year 2031, the world was changing; very recently, the political structure of the entire continent of Europe had been reformed.  Just under three years ago, the nations of Europe voted on an issue that would have a dramatic influence on the global future.  They voted to combine all their countries together into one state, governed by one Parliament who enforced the same laws across the continent.
    This motion was passed, all national governments were dissolved and their military forces disbanded.  The European Union was now the governing body of the land and had been transformed into a completely different creature altogether.  Now, representatives from each ‘Province’ of Europe were elected to be members of the European Parliament, which now effectively ruled the continent.
    All the former countries of Europe had agreed to join this new European Union, even some that weren’t members of the original Union.  All countries had complied, all save one, the UK.  Controversially, the people of the UK had voted ‘No’ to joining this new super-government and the United Kingdom was now despised by the rest of Europe for declining to unite further.
    The Republic of Ireland however had now become part of the United Kingdom.  They also did not wish to join this second Union and so they stood with the rest of the British Isles in resistance of this new change, this was most unexpected but they were welcomed as allies in the defiance of the Union.
    The reasons behind this policy of isolationism were unclear; most people of the UK didn’t really care as long as nothing changed for them.  The monarchy remained, the King still had his throne and life in the last lone country of Europe had changed relatively little when compared with that of the mainland.
    The British citizens carried on as normal as they had before, focussing more on their own problems that needed solving, rather than what was seen as ‘overseas issues’.  One example of this mentality could be found in a man named Colin Shaw.
    On the morning of the 3rd of September 2031, Colin was in his house in Edinburgh, getting ready for the day.  He was currently standing in front of the full-length dress mirror in his bedroom, getting dressed in a black suit, as usual.  
    Colin Shaw was 41 years old, as of last May, and he was a funeral director.  He had been one for close to twenty years now and he ran the small business with his wife, Victoria.  He could see their bed in the mirror’s reflection.  She wasn’t in it.  Most days she went into work before he had even woken up.  In truth, she did a lot more of the work than him, he just met with the families and she did almost everything else which covered a lot of responsibilities.
    Colin didn’t feel bad about this, he was never meant to do much of the work, he was the boss after all.  His father had been a funeral director too and had left the business in Colin’s hands when he died.  Colin was an only child; therefore the only option.
    As Colin tied his tie, he realised that he didn’t feel bad about this either, even if he did have siblings he was sure that his father would’ve still chosen him.  He had helped out all the time with his father’s business as a child and had learned a lot from the experience.  Colin looked at himself in the mirror; more specifically, he was examining his tie.  It was black, of course, and he was now spending a great deal of effort making sure that it was perfectly straight.
    Not many people wore ties these days, they were beginning to realise just how utterly pointless they were.  Colin still did though, he was a traditional man; he had to be.  Being an undertaker was a very traditional occupation.
    When Colin was finished, he went to his wardrobe to collect his jacket.  Inside his wardrobe there were all sorts of dark clothing, it was just what was expected from someone in his profession.  Above his clothes, however, was an item of apparel that he had never worn before, it was his father’s hat.
    This was an old-fashioned black top hat, his father had worn it along with gloves and a cane every time he buried one of his ‘clients’, as he put it.  Colin had never worn it because there was never an occasion when he had to wear it.  Since his father had died about fifteen years ago, Colin had never organised the burial of anyone.
    This definitely sounds strange for a funeral director but it was the truth, no one was being buried anymore, all the business that he ever got was cremations.
    It was a changing world, the golden age for undertakers was the twentieth century, there were two world wars and people were still religious.  Many had even still believed that the body needed to remain intact so that when it was resurrected, the person wouldn’t have bits missing.  
This wasn’t the situation today, religion had been in a steady decline for years and no one believed in the old ways anymore.  The most common view now was that when you died, you just returned to the void that you came from before you were born.
    Everyone that Colin dealt with wanted their family member to be cremated; it was much cheaper and more convenient.  They came in, paid, got them cremated and then they were given a basic container filled with their ashes to do with what they wished.  They didn’t even want urns anymore.
    Colin’s business was also not helped with the life insurance adverts that started cropping up a bit less than twenty years ago, encouraging people to be cremated rather than buried when they died.  A smiley lady in her sixties and a cream suit had said that it was better for those you leave behind if you don’t make them spend so much money on an expensive funeral.  
She also explained that they were encouraging this movement to reduce the risk of disease but Colin suspected that they just really didn’t want more graveyards being built, they probably wanted the land to build housing for the living on which Colin supposed was reasonable.
    A part of him was glad that his father wasn’t around to see what had become of his business; it was nowhere near as prosperous as it had been when he was in charge.  Even his father had been cremated, it was what he had wanted, he never said why.  Colin had scattered his ashes at sea, that was what most people did.
    Colin finished dressing himself by putting on his long dark coat; he went over to his bed to see what the time was on the clock on his bedside table.  It was a cheap plastic analogue clock that he had used for a long time; it claimed that the time was 23 minutes past nine.  He checked this claim against that of the digital clock on his wife’s side which said that the time was 09:51.
    Colin could never understand what caused this; sometimes he would leave in the same battery for months with it recording perfect time and even when he changed the battery, it was impossible to predict when the clock would decide to mislead him.
    He had obsessed over it just enough for his wife to call him paranoid, round about the time when he declared that someone was stealing his time was when she made this diagnosis.
    Fortunately, he always kept his watch in the drawer underneath the untrustworthy clock.  He removed it from the table and attached it to his wrist; it was also analogue.  He was a traditional man.  Colin examined it for a moment and found it sad that soon there probably won’t be anyone around who could even read an analogue clock.  No one used them anymore; sometimes it felt like tradition was dying.
    Colin Shaw turned around, left his bedroom and then left his house.  As he locked up he looked at his watch, it said that it was 8 minutes to 10, this might sound like he was going into work late but this was actually early for him.  As was said earlier, he didn’t have a lot to do.  He made his way up the path to his car.
    The weather was not pleasant; summertime was being beaten back by the piecing winds and soggy leaves of autumn.  There were quite a few trees around Colin’s house but their leaves had started turning brown by now and he had to squelch through those that had already fallen to get to his car parked next to the pavement outside his house.
    Colin entered his car and began the short journey to work; he could’ve probably walked it, if he wanted to.  Victoria Shaw had previously taken the other car to get to work probably a couple hours earlier.  For the environment’s sake, they really should have only one car that they both should take to work at the same time.  But Colin didn’t care that much about the environment; he cared more about his lie in.
    Anyway, the only reason to be environmentally conscious is to preserve the planet for future generations and since Colin had been married for eight years with no children and probably none ever, he felt that it wasn’t his responsibility.  Leave it to those who are going to have children; he had greater worries, like his failing business.
    To be perfectly honest, Colin had admitted to himself before he had ever even met Victoria that he didn’t want children.  He never understood why it was generally accepted that a happy and full life required children in them.
    Colin Shaw considered not having children his gift to the environment, the fact that he would never produce any new consumers to pollute the world must have more than made up for him and his wife taking separate journey’s to work.  They didn’t really have two cars, they were just using the car of the child that they were never going to have and who would never grow up to drive a car.
    Using this logic, everything balanced out nicely in Colin’s mind.  That was what Colin was adept at, he could rationalise anything so he could do whatever he wanted to with a clear conscience.  He would never admit to himself the main reason why he drove a separate car to work virtually every morning after his wife had already left.
    The secret he knew but would never fully acknowledge was that he enjoyed avoiding the shared trip to work, they seldom try it but when they do, Colin loathes it.  In the house when they run out of things to say to each other, at least then they could just pretend to do something else to make it seem like they were too busy to talk.  In the car he was trapped, they were both forced to interact and the usual short time it took to get to work would stretch out into aeons of awkward silences.
    Colin continued his peaceful drive; he turned on the radio.  It was the usual chatter that never really went anywhere, perfect for background noise.  Then something caught his eye, he saw an old Volkswagen Beetle parked on the other side of the street.  For some reason, Colin had always liked those cars, he was never sure why, he just thought that the styling was very unique when compared to the other cars that he always saw surrounding them, they had personality.
    When Colin was younger he had once heard that the Beetle’s design had been styled by Hitler.  It hadn’t put him off; even the worst people can’t help but get something right in their lives.  He would’ve even bought one if he wasn’t completely sure that Victoria would hate it.
    The conversation kept going on the radio; the voices of the two people involved with it were not annoying enough to make him turn them off but gave just the right level of irritation to keeps drivers alert on the road.  Then the dialogue disappeared and was replaced by a woman’s voice reading out the news.
    Scientists predict that soon the already thinly spread resources on Earth will be taxed beyond their limit.  The population of Earth is already about 8 billion and statisticians say that this number will rise to above 9 billion by the year 2050.  Plans to introduce ‘breeding laws’ are already being contemplated, experts recommend families to have no more than two children, one to replace each parent.  This way the population will stay constant, if we continue to increase at the current exponential rate scientists say that we will not only deplete our national resources but run out of space as well.  Proposals have been put forward by the European space agency that in the future we may have to look into founding off world colonies to cope with the strain…
    The next few words were drowned out by an ambulance speeding past Colin’s window, it gave him more of a fright than he had expected.  He now felt so strange and he didn’t know why, it was a similar feeling to getting in the shower and realising that you were still wearing your glasses.  He went back to listening.
    One biologist, Dr. Robert Landau, has been quoted in saying that large families are being ‘selfish and irresponsible’.  According to the doctor, people who reproduce too much are harming the human race more than the people who use the most energy in our society.  With all other animals, when their population outgrows the available resources that are available their numbers are lowered by disease or predators.  However, with humans who practically have no natural predators anymore and our eradication of so many diseases both lead our multiplication to be hindered only by our foresight.
    At that moment the radio started to pump static into the car, it was often breaking like this, it was old.  When he came to some lights Colin gave it a good punch and it started working again, he loved how that worked for fixing everything and the fact that no one could give a reasonable explanation why it did.
    Tensions increase further as more and more Scottish politicians are sponsoring the motion for Scotland to break away from the United Kingdom and form a separate country.  Recently, protest groups comprised mainly of Scottish voters have been created in support of this idea of independence.
    This commotion had been going on for years; every so often, some people became upset with the current government after a mistake is made.  In England, all they could do was moan about such an event but up in Scotland, they can always threaten to leave the UK.  Colin never took these warnings seriously, along with most people, he just considered them to be an empty way to improve the current situation.
    Colin Shaw’s funeral home was in sight now, it was a small but nice building, the main doors were glass and the stone slab path leading up to them were bordered with flowers.  Even though the main building itself was quite small, the surrounding land was also owned by Colin, there was a car park on one side and the graveyard was behind it.  It was a comparatively young funeral home, bought by Colin’s father and the quite large graveyard around the back had fallen into disuse before it had even been half-filled.  They used to have a groundskeeper to tend it but he had to be let go when people stopped being buried; now it was an overgrown mess.
    As Colin pulled into the car park and parked in his usual space next to his wife’s car, he tried to remember the name of the groundskeeper.  When he was a child, his father had a dozen employees, including several gravediggers who had all left before Colin had become the boss, but the groundskeeper had remained to cut the grass and tend to the graves.  His name was Arthur Macmillan.
    Colin got out of his car and began to walk round to the front, this had actually been Colin Shaw’s 7500th trip to work he had ever made, but he hadn’t known that so it didn’t matter.
    Before turning to his right to enter his funeral parlour through the main entrance, something caught his attention to the left.  Sitting on a low wall was a young man, in about his early twenties and he was staring out at the passing traffic with a scrupulous intensity, as if expecting something, yet not really focussing on anything particular.
    Colin decided to do something that he would’ve never normally done and didn’t know why he did it that day; he went over to talk to the man.  He was wearing jeans and a cheap hooded top and he didn’t look up when a middle-aged man dressed all in black approached him.
    “What are you doing?” Colin asked.
    “Waiting,” the young man replied quietly.
    “For what?” Colin pressed gingerly.
    “Anything,” he said even more quietly than before, barely more than a whisper.
    Colin didn’t know what to say to that, he chose to leave the man alone, he thought that he was probably crazy or something.  He backed away and turned towards his original route, entering his funeral parlour, but not before giving one more quick glance back at the strange man.
    Inside, the familiar surroundings had remained unchanged for as long as he could remember.  The thick carpet was still a deep red, or at least it had been when it was brand new, it had faded into this drab shade probably before Colin was even born.
    The walls were a mixture of a dark wood base and pink wallpaper, on his immediate right was his office, he didn’t use it much as you needed work to do for an office to become necessary.  It was mostly only there to talk to the families about what they wanted, which often involved a simple cremation.
    To his left was the break room, it was just a TV and a settee at one end with a table and kitchen area on the other side.  He entered and looked around, on the settee, watching the telly was Natalie Clark, she operated the crematorium.
    Colin had always wondered why she worked here; she was only in her mid-twenties and had begun working here as soon as she left university.  Burning dead bodies until they’re nothing but ashes didn’t seem like something such a nice girl would want to do with her life.
    She turned round on the settee so that she was facing Colin.  It was at this point that he noticed she was wearing a long sleeved grey T-shirt under a black top with a slogan printed on it in white.  It read, ‘You won’t find the answers to your problems on a T-shirt’.  It made him smile…briefly.
    “Hi Mr. Shaw,” she said.
    “Morning Clark,” he said.  “How many do we have scheduled today?”
    “Just one,” she said.  “Already did it before you got here.”
    “So we’re done for the day?” he said.  “How did it go?”
    “Pretty standard,” she said.  “The family’s coming to collect her this afternoon.”
    “Err…good,” he wasn’t quite sure what to do or say now.  “Are you just planning on watching TV all day?”
    “Well I don’t have anything to do if we have no more appointments today,” she said.
    “There’s always something you could be doing to help,” he said.
    “Yeah sure,” she said.  “I’ll get right on that in a bit.  By the way, your wife wanted to see you.”
    “Where is she?” he said.
    “She’s in the mess hall,” she said.
    Colin turned to leave when Clark said something to stop him.
    “Mr Shaw?” she said.
    “Yes?” he said in a tone like he knew that she was about to say something tiring.
    “I was watching I, Robot last night,” she said.
    “You mean that old sci-fi film from the noughties?” he said.
    “Yeah,” she said.  “I was watching it and in it, it promised that we would all have robot servants by now.”
    “So?” he said.  “Actually I think we’ve got four years left.”
    “Well, we don’t,” she ignored him and continued.  “Where’s my robotic servant?  I want one.”
    “Why?” he said.  “You should be glad that we don’t after what happened in the end.”
    “What happened in the end?” she said.  “I think I fell asleep about half-way through.”
    “I have to go now,” Colin said.  “Just watch the whole thing next time.”
    Colin left her wondering how it ended and returned to the corridor, he continued down it until he arrived at the door after the break room, the entrance to the mess hall.
    In the time when his father ran this place, it had many employees and the mess hall was where they all used to eat their meals during the day.  Now only four people worked here, including him, there was also his wife who handled the accounts, Clark who did the cremations and Ian who was the driver and collected the bodies.
    The mess hall had fallen into disuse, just like the majority of rooms here.  There was a morgue where a pathologist was once employed, that was where the bodies were stored and embalmed in preparation for the burials that they didn’t do anymore.  It was completely useless now, unlike the mess hall that his wife used as a makeshift office.  There was no reason for people to eat in it, there just wasn’t enough staff, and the few that did work here just ate whatever they needed in the break room.
    At the end of the one long table was his wife, Victoria, head down amidst some papers and appearing deep in concentration.
    “We’re in trouble,” she said with her head still down in the papers.
    “Why do you say that every time you see me?” he said.  “That phrase seems to have replaced ‘hello’ with you.”
    “It’s because it’s true every time I see you,” she said.  “Come here, look at this.”
    Colin made his way over to her and took the piece of paper that she was holding out to him, still without looking up.  He took out his reading glasses and read the sheet, he didn’t always need glasses but once a human gets past 30, they peak and their body just goes downhill from there.  Actually, Colin was meant to wear those glasses when he was driving but he didn’t think his eyesight was that bad and he didn’t like wearing them so he never did.
    What Colin had in his hand was a mystery to him, it was various columns of numbers with different sections for means and standard deviations and he became bored just examining it for a few seconds.
    “What’s the problem?” he said.
    “We aren’t making enough money,” she said.
    “Does anyone ever think they’re making enough money?” he said.  “This doesn’t look too bad.”
    “You notice the column saying income?” she said.  “And the column saying expenditure?  Then look at the profit, notice how the number’s negative?”
    “We can’t actually be losing money?” he said.
    “Of course we can,” she said.  “We only have about four or five appointments a week, even if we had no employees we’d still be losing money.”
    “Are you saying we have to fire Natalie and Ian?” he said.
    “There’s no point, it won’t do much good,” she said.  “We’d still be in the red.”
    “What do you want then?” he said.
    “We need more clients,” she said, talking like his father.
    “Well I could kill myself if that would help,” he said mockingly.  “But I’m afraid that would only be one more, maybe I should become a serial killer instead.”
    “Stop joking,” she said.  “This is serious, we could really improve the situation if we organise some burials, they’re worth a lot more, things would be so much better if people still wanted to be buried.”
    “Well they aren't,” he said.  “It’s not my fault times have changed.”
    ‘It’s not my fault’ was Colin’s favourite phrase, he says it to himself about a dozen times a day to make himself feel better but occasionally one slips out into the real world.
    “I didn’t say it was,” she said.  “I just thought you might have an idea to help, maybe you could just press a little harder for a burial when you discuss the options with the families.”
    “I’m not going to do that,” he said.  “There’s no way I’m going to try to trick bereaved people into spending more money than they want to.”
    “Fine,” she said.  “But if we don’t come up with another idea then we’ll be bankrupt soon.”
    “We’ll get by,” he said.  “We always do.”
    “Now it’s worse than ever,” she said.  “There’s no point in even coming in tomorrow, we’ve got no appointments at all.”
    “I wasn’t coming in anyway,” he said.  “Tomorrow I’m going to visit my mother, remember?”
    “Oh right,” she said.  “I forgot.  Tell her I said hi.”
    “Sure,” he said.  “Is there anything else for today?”
    “Mrs. Price’s daughter and son-in-law are coming at 2 o’clock to collect her ashes,” she informed him.  “Will you handle that?  You’re better with at that sort of thing.”
    “Sure,” he said.  “I’ll be in the garage with Ian, just come and get me when it’s time.”
    “OK,” she said.
    This was why Colin didn’t mind his wife being in charge of most of the responsibilities around here, because she still needed him to deal with the people, which wasn’t exactly one of her strengths.  He liked this situation; it made Colin feel that his presence was still required around here.  He wasn’t completely redundant yet.     “You know the clock was wrong again this morning,” he said.
    “Stop talking to me about that stupid clock,” she said.  “Either get a different one or stop complaining.”
    “I’m just saying,” he said.  “It’s weird and I’m going to find out what’s causing it.”
    Colin left his wife alone with her work and continued further down the corridor until he turned right and entered the garage where they kept the van and the hearses that they no longer used.  Even though they hadn’t been used in a funeral for years the driver and mechanic, Ian McMahon, kept them in full working order.  To raise some more money Colin had attempted to sell them a few years ago but after realising that no one wanted them, gave up on that idea forever.  
    On the other side of the garage was Ian, he was at least a decade older than Colin was and had worked here for a long time, he had even been friends with his father.  Ian was sitting by his workbench, having a cup of tea, reading the paper and listening to some Oasis, they were always playing in the background of this place.
    Colin liked Ian; he spent most of his time here with him, listening to whatever was on his mind.  Ian had spent so much time with Colin’s father, more than he had, that he had picked up some of his mannerisms and Colin liked having someone who reminded him of his father around.  As Colin walked over to him, Ian automatically poured another cup of tea and placed it next to him in front of Colin’s usual seat that he sat down on today, just like most days.
    “Good morning Ian,” Colin said.
    “Barely good or even the morning,” Ian said.  “How’s business?  I heard Vic wanted to talk to you.”
    “Same as usual,” Colin said.  “Abysmal, we’re not getting many clients and the few that we have only want cremations.”
    “What’s happened to the world?” Ian said.  “I remember barely over twenty years ago, having burials every day.  Why aren’t people being buried anymore?”
    “Well it costs more,” Colin said.  “Those adverts informed them of that.”
    “I don’t know why people have started listening to the government,” Ian said.  “They never have done before.”
    “It’s not completely stopped,” Colin said.  “There still are some rich people out there wanting to be buried but they would never come to us.  All those new funeral companies that have been established are cornering the market.”
    “I don’t believe that some people would go to a chain of funeral directors rather than a local family business like this one,” Ian said.  “It’s so impersonal.”
    “Well they’re good at it,” Colin said.  “Somehow they’ve even got more of a personal touch than us now.”
    “It’s a disgrace,” Ian said.  “Some of those companies aren’t even based on funerals; they just have a funeral division in their corporation.  It’s an insult to the business, our profession is traditional one.  Small businesses are dying.”
    “They’ve been supposedly dying for ages,” Colin said.  “Yet we’re still here.”
    “Barely,” Ian said.  “We’re still dying, it’s just more drawn out but we’re coming to the end.  We’re all be gone soon.”
    “Don’t talk like that,” Colin said.  “What have you been up to today?  Has it been busy?”
    “Just had to collect one person,” Ian said.  “Mrs. Price from the hospital.”
    “How old was she?” Colin said.
    “I think she was 92,” Ian said.
    “92 years old,” Colin said.  “If you think about it, that’s an incredibly long time.”
    “Too long in my opinion,” Ian said.
    “All we seem to get is old people,” Colin said.  “I mean, I know that’s good, people not dying before their time but what happened to ‘only the good die young’, are we just out of good people?”
    “The good don’t die young,” Ian said.  “Only those who have really lived get to die young, that explains why we’re both still around.”
    “What about tomorrow?” Colin asked.  “How many appointments?”
    “I’m not picking any up as far as I know,” Ian said.  “That’s why I’m going to the dentist tomorrow.”
    “Is everything alright?” Colin said.
    “Yeah,” Ian said.  “Nothing’s really wrong.  I’m just going to get that tooth galvanising treatment done.”
    “What’s that?” Colin said.
    “It’s a great new treatment,” Ian said.  “They coat your teeth in a thin invisible polymer layer.  It’s completely tasteless but it means that you can eat what you want, like acidic drinks or very sweet things and since they don’t technically come in contact with your teeth, no erosion can occur.”
    “Sounds interesting,” Colin said.
    “I think it’s brilliant,” Ian said.  “I’m getting to that age where you really need to look after your teeth so I think it’s worth the cost.  The coating stays on your teeth for a whole year, completely shielding your teeth before it wears away and then you just get it reapplied.”
Colin laughed and looked at the article Ian was reading.
    “What do you make of it?” Colin said.
    “Of what?” Ian said.
    “The overpopulation crisis,” Colin said.  “Apparently we’re all going to run out of resources soon.”
    “There’s a new thing to worry about everyday,” Ian said.  “Back at the turn of the century do you remember the global warming ‘crisis’?  People don’t talk about that much anymore so there needs to be a new crisis for everyone to panic about.  Personally, I love the fact that the population won’t stop increasing; it makes this world a much more interesting place to live in when there are so many different types of individuals in it.  The more people there are in the world, the greater the chance of history being made with each new day.”
    “Most of history doesn’t sound like it would‘ve been much fun to live through,” Colin said.
    “Might have been exciting though,” Ian said.
    “Anything else good in the paper?” Colin asked.
    “Just something about new IVF technology,” Ian said.  “I didn’t read it properly, it was that interesting.”
    “I don’t get IVF,” Colin said.  “It’s so expensive, a waste of medical resources and nerve wracking by worrying over whether it’s worked or not.  I don’t understand why couples who can’t have children but want them just can’t adopt.  There are loads of children without parents so why not look after one of them rather cluttering up the planet with one more consumer?”
    “It’s probably important for them to be biologically related,” Ian said.
    “But why?” Colin said.  “Just because you share certain genes doesn’t mean you’re more likely to get on better than with another child.  Look at the relationship between me and my mother for example.”
    “Maybe it’s a natural urge to leave behind some offspring before you die,” Ian said.  “Like it’s built in or something?”
    “I don’t know,” Colin said.  “It just seems so selfish.”
    “Yeah I guess I agree,” Ian said.  “But I don’t think it bothers me as much as it seems to with you.”
    “Well it doesn’t really,” Colin said.  “I don’t care about the planet, nor am I obsessed with morals.  It’s just they seem to have a new story on it every week and it always screams in my mind that why don’t these couple just try adoption.”
    “Is that what you and Vic are going to do?” Ian said.
    “What are you talking about?” Colin said.
    “Well you’ve been married for a while now and no children to carry on the business yet,” Ian said.  “I assumed that there may be a problem?”
    “There’s no problem,” Colin said.  “We just don’t want any.”
    “Fair enough,” Ian said.
    “Have you met that guy who’s hanging around outside?” Colin desperately thought of something else that they could talk about.
    “What guy?” Ian said.
    “There was this kid sitting on a wall when I arrived,” Colin said.  “Just staring out at the cars passing by.”
    “I don’t know anything about that,” Ian said.  “He wasn’t there the last time I went out.  Do you know what he was doing?”
    “I tried speaking to him to find out but he kept talking as if he had been let out of the hospital a bit too soon,” Colin said.
    “Do you think he’s dangerous?” Ian said.
    “Didn’t seem to be,” Colin said.  “Was a little weird though, do you think I should call the police?”
    “If he’s not harming anyone, leave him,” Ian said.  “The world’s full of strange people, it’s best to just ignore them and get by the best as you can.”
    “Is that how you do it,” Colin said.  “Because in case you haven’t noticed, neither of us are getting by too well.”
    “It’s not that bad,” Ian said.  “We’re better off than some, you’re listening to Vic too much, she’s a compulsive pessimist.”
    “She’s got a point though,” Colin said.  “We can’t carry on like this for long.”
    “Stop thinking about the future so much,” Ian said.  “It doesn‘t even exist yet, neither does the present for that matter.  Everything happens in the past.”
    “What about this conversation?” Colin said.
    “That too,” Ian said.  “You just have to give it a minute.”
    “If this business does go under you might be able to find work as a philosopher,” Colin said jokingly.
    “Yeah right,” Ian said.  “I can’t stand those people; philosophers are just authors to lazy to come up with a decent story.”
    Colin smiled again and drank some more of his tea.
    “You know when I came in, Clark asked me why we all don’t have robot servants yet,” he said.
    “I know,” Ian said.  “She watched some old sci-fi film last night and she wouldn’t stop going on about it when we went to the hospital this morning.”
    “What did you say?” Colin said.
    “I didn’t know what to tell her, I’ve never seen it,” Ian said.  “She’s pretty weird, why did you hire her?”
    “Most people quit after my dad died,” Colin said.  “Only you and Art stayed so I needed someone who could operate the crematorium, I just hired the first person who applied and it took a while for even that to happen.”
    “Didn’t you even interview her?” Ian said.
    “Of course I did,” Colin said.  “I made sure she was qualified and everything, I know I was distracted during that time but I’m not incompetent.”
    “What was she like in the interview?” Ian said.
    “Just the same as now I guess,” Colin said.  “She wouldn’t stop talking; she told me so much about herself that I’m having trouble recalling anything specific.  I think she was born somewhere in the South of England, I can’t remember exactly where.”
    Ian went to pour himself another cup.
    “We’re out of sugar,” he said.  “Back in a minute, I’ll go and see if there’s any in the break room.”
    Ian left the room for a moment or two; Colin spent that time looking around the overly neat garage.  While sipping the remnants of his tea, he thought to himself that it wasn’t a bad life but it could definitely be improved.