11 or of beds and calls

We’re back with your story so try to focus now and remember who you are.

Phonzo has never had the opportunity to go back to a home that was fully his after work and he still won’t for a while.

To be completely honest, the one at the public house is your first actual legally paid occupation. So, technically, you have never gone back home after work in your whole life due to the total lack of such an action.

Regardless, your family home was fully your home of course, but you were still living with the begetters and sharing the room with your sibling. And the problem has never been the presence more than the need to acknowledging it. Although this is a lesson that you would learn further on, when you will also understand that the bother of living with your procreators can be a nuisance compared to the one of living with loathsome and unsung human beings.

Anyhow, at this time, you were still sharing your room. A former living room converted into a double room with a fridge to be precise. And you were sharing it all with Ambrogio the Human Bedding.

Ambrogio was your first direct experience of room-and-flat-mate since your friend Luchino was as unattainable as an earthruler and the Pindoramian(s) was just an unseeable entity whose existence you faithful accepted without need of proofs, also like an earthruler, but luckily without the need of paying them monthly. Anyway, this was an experience too, just an indirect one. Alas! The things you didn’t know can fill a collection of short stories!

Ambrogio was mostly there, laying down in his bed. Sometimes covered by the duvet, sometimes not, sometimes he was seating, often he was using a tablet, always he would be complaining. You knew he was a Drink (another quick feeder company) gear, but only because the shared fridge was full of expired food he was allegedly bringing from work at the end of his stints. Which seemed to regularly drag him into overtime thus becoming so long and harsh to affect every second of his breathing. You have never seen Ambrogio physically exiting or entering his bedding realm, but the aforementioned apparition with the subsequent vanishing of Drink’s provisions (you were still too of a newbie in Londinium to feed yourself on expired ready-made food) were proof enough of his existence in the standing beings’ plane. What you didn’t know was that Ambrogio could’ve been easily struggling with his cerebral well-being. That, while some people react to the Londinium routine following the famous commandment work hard, party harder, others simply (and sadly) get overwhelmed by all of this and shatter. But cerebral well-being is not really something you talk about in the Booty Peninsula. Much easier to acquire an Undergrad in Classic and Contemporary Kicking Ball Chronicles at the Bar & Barbershop Academy instead.

There were times when your presence in the room and Ambrogio’s absence from his bed were coincidental. And during those rare junctures another new (for Phonzo) common (for the rest of the globe) migrant trope started taking place: the telematic gathering (which became a thing for non-migrants as well during the post-contemporary plague, but that’s totally another story). The telematic gathering were mainly very far apart jiffies you used to communicate with your folks (the begetters mostly) and during which, despite the clock, a lot goes on. Many stories were told (and many other were uphold) by the mater, few things were said by the pater. Then, it’s the migrant’s turn who tended to summarise whatever in the shortest and most unintelligible way being sure to lie when you had to and dismissing sensitive information if that’s what duty requires. It is a craft which generally requires years of experience and practice which you already had accumulated along your life even if unknowingly of how useful it would have turned out to be over so many unprecedented times.

Telematic gatherings could be stressful, but also fun, sometimes were just something to be done, eventually they’ll become the only way to see people for a while. But, yeah, they were nothing like working every In Hora Diaboli over the termination of the seven-day cycle in the public house. Not even slightly. And, since life loves to give unrequested lessons, you were about to find it out.

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