When Gods ask why.
The boom was loud. VERY loud. In a few days someone would come in and do a bit of an inspection and call it "A gas leak". A gas leak, really? Come on now, let's not piss around. Yes, gas leaks exist, and they are dangerous and all the rest of it. But really? Today?
This was too much.
I don't want much. Just a little bit is all I really need. I've had it all. I've seen it all. I've tried it all. And failed. Something always comes up. It always comes up just at the pivotal point and destroys it.
It started in what is known today as Turkey. I was part of the Catalhoyuk, about nine thousand years ago. I was a potter. I made pots. I was an apprentice to a man, two years I spent with him. I did all his shit-work, cleaned the workshop and house. I was pretty much a slave, really. "Indentured servitude" they called it. I worked like that to pay for my teaching, not that he taught me much. I basically worked for him for free. The bastard never even fed me... Not that I needed food, but that wasn't the point, he should have provided it at least.
I started with basic stuff. Small bowls, Then I got better and made small pots, then larger pots then on and on. Two years I spent with him, learning his trade. Yeah, I learned many things, the main one was that I needed to pick a better mentor.
After that I set up on my own in another village. The mentor I had finally stepped up and gave me some money when we parted. I nearly fainted when that happened. So, I bought clay, shaped it, made patterns on it, and fired it. Most of it was crap, meant for everyday use. It had to be cheap because it didn't last long. That was what got me my daily needs. The nicer stuff doesn't sell well. People don't spend money they don't have on things that don't last long. So nicer pieces were a rarity for me.
I had only been on my own for half a year when one of the villages nearby attacked us and I was killed. I had only just paid off my debts, that very morning I had paid off the merchant Izor the last of what I owed. In fact, he was even considering buying one of my nicer pieces. My first sale being a debt free potter!
And then they attacked... And I died. Fuck!
So, I tried again. Egypt this time, about three thousand years later. I made bricks. Mud bricks mixed with straw I got from the market. We bought raw clay, mix it ourselves and pressed it into a mould and let it bake in the sun. I started out working for someone else, I didn't have money and I didn't want to cheat so this was the only way. I was a good worker, and I was fast. I was clearly the best worker and got the best pay. When the owner got ill and died, he passed the business to me. You would think I would be proud. I swear he only did it to piss me off. He never mentioned that he had debts. Fucker.
So, with all the money I had I paid off what I could and ran the business to continue paying off the debt. Again, just after paying the debt, my first day debt free, boom! Dead. A rival business had paid someone to kill me. There had been a poor inundation for the past two years and food prices were up. The cost of the straw to make the bricks was going higher as it was also needed to feed the animals. The other businessman needed the work to pay his staff and control the market. I only had two other people and they died with me. I was really annoyed with that. Don't worry, the murderer didn't make it out of the yard alive. Humans don't really understand the concept of pain until they meet someone who can really deal it out. And I am one of those people.
So, I tried again. Ancient Japan this time. Towards the end of the Jomon period, about five thousand years ago. I was a cord maker. I started out gathering and processing plant fibres to sell, then later I learned how to braid from an old man and his wife who took me in. I worked for and with them. They used to make cord for the braiders in the town. They would be the ones to make the amazing decorations on the armour of noted people, Shoguns and the like.
We also made the cord and rope for the pottery, that was where the main business was. This time when the owners died their son took the house back and moved me on. I had nothing but the skills I had learned so I did just that. I made my own hovel and made cord. I was happy for the first time. No debts, no stresses and nobody looking for me.
And then the local wars started, and I was, again, dead. Happiness was not to be mine, I guess.
