Published: 2025-10-23

The stone pillow didn’t hurt his neck. The man opened his eyes; they were bleary. After yesterday’s labor, his muscles were still sore; he paid no attention, the hut’s mortgage wasn’t going to pay itself. He put his loincloth on and went out. The dawn’s light bathed the huts behind the man. He contemplated the wooden huts, lined up one next to the other, all looking to the sea, and understood he had made it in life. He had his own hut, enough food, a job, his job! He was going to be late for work. He ran.

Behind the thick forest, there was the factory; the man was not fortunate enough to have a white-collar job, but he didn’t mind. He liked getting his hands dirty. After all, not everybody could be a politician. Leading people? In this day and age? A coup d'état usually ends with a « coup dans la tête.» Better not risk it.

The man made it to the factory; other men already found themselves hard at work. He approached his work station cautiously, as not to call attention to himself. He sat down and looked around, but nobody seemed to notice; he laughed as he grabbed his tools. From behind, something tapped his shoulder. The man thought it was a branch and tried to brush it off, but it kept tapping him. The man turned around, now furious due to the constant interruptions, but there was no branch behind him; it was his supervisor. The man’s face changed; he wasn’t furious anymore, but frightened. The supervisor pointed at the sun as he looked at the man. The man smiled and shrugged, to which the supervisor responded by hitting him in the head. The man cried in pain, the supervisor let, the other men laughed.

The man took his hammer and chisel and started shaping the huge boulders that rested next to his work station. His job was one of great importance to the Stone Age society; he was a wheel maker. It was no easy job either; if you weren’t careful, you could end up with a square instead of a circle; the man should know, it had happened to him. The supervisor hit him on the head because of that.

But carving wheels out of boulders was not the only job in the factory. Others worked in the assembly line, putting the pieces together to make carts, which they later used to transport the spoils of their hunts. The boulders and wood were provided by another group that worked in the forest; some cut down the trees, others chopped them, and others took the wood to the factory; a similar process was used for the boulders. There were even those who worked in research and development, experimenting with the hopes of finding ways to improve the lives of their fellow humans; some even dreamed of discovering the next best thing since fire!

The man was not concerned with big dreams and ambitions; he kept his head down and did what he was told to do, he tied his loincloth a knot at a time, and ate his fish with both hands like everybody else.

The supervisor walked to and fro, grunting at the employees who got distracted from their task. There were many distractions in the Stone Age: the constant tweets of the birds as they seemed to pass messages to each other; the flash of the sun that seeped through the foliage; the vibration of the tectonic plates caused by volcanic activity. No wonder men could not get anything done; their attention span had been kidnapped by the amenities of the modern world.

The man raised his hammer high in the air and struck the chisel with all his might. From sunrise to sunset, he did nothing but this. By the end of the day, his back ached and his calloused hands had a few new blisters to show for. It was the price of honest work.

The man got up from his workstation; at least he knew that freshly roasted fish would be waiting for him at the hut. That was how society worked back then; some worked, others cooked, but everybody contributed.

He ventured into the forest, his mouth watering like Pavlov’s dog. It was dark, but he knew his way, as did everyone else. A growl startled him; it came out of nowhere; he turned around. A giant feline pounced onto him, it growled again. Then darkness.

His wife grabbed him by the shoulders and shook him violently while calling his name, “Juan! Juan! Wake up.” The man opened his eyes. Shaking and struggling, he sat down in bed, looking around, still startled. A loud sound pierced his ears; he screamed.

“It’s OK, honey, it’s OK. It’s just the alarm clock.”

Juan looked at the night table to his right. A digital alarm clock showed 7:02 AM. He reached for the button on top of it, and it stopped ringing. He put both his hands to his face and took a deep breath.

“What is it, honey? What happened?”
“Oh, baby, it was horrible,” Juan said without taking his hands off his face, “I was a caveman, and I had to carve wheels out of big boulders all day long, and a mean man would hit me in the head for not showing on time, and a big tiger, or God knows what, attacked me. It was so real; so frightening.”

His wife hugged him. As he rested his head on her chest, she caressed his hair and kissed him.

“It’s OK, honey, you’re safe now. It was only a dream, nobody is gonna hurt you. OK”

He raised his gaze, and her warm smile made him feel better.

“OK, baby.”
“Good. Now go take a long, cold shower, and I will make breakfast before you leave for work. How about it?”
“That sounds nice.” He said while nodding.

Juan got out of bed and walked towards the door. Before leaving the room, he turned around and asked his wife, “What’s for breakfast?”

“Oh, I’ll make your favorite: roasted fish.”

Juan screamed in terror.

THE END.