Where Things Come From


Oliver and Krista sat in the living room watching TV after a long day of work.

“Did it ever occur to you, we don’t know where anything comes from any more?” asked Oliver.

“Sure we do,” replied Krista.

“Yeah? Where does our food come from?”

“The grocery store.”

“Before that.”


“What farmers?”

Krista smiled. “Country farmers.”

“What about your cell phone?”

“That’s easy. China. Everything comes from China.”

“Doesn’t that bother you?”

“It would if they made me go all the way to China to get it,” said Krista.

“I’m being serious,” Oliver complained.

Krista sighed. “Is this where you start ranting?”

Oliver glared at Krista. “It doesn’t bother you that you’re completely dependent on people you don’t know in a country you’ve never been?”

“Oliver, we’re always dependent on people we don’t know. No offense, but you can’t even fix the plumbing without professional help.”

“Have you noticed that people say ‘no offense’ right before they say something obviously offensive, as though the disclaimer makes it any better?”

“You know what I mean.”

“That we’re essentially, completely helpless. I should’ve become a survivalist.”

“Even survivalist need things they can’t make. Tools, clothes and a bunch of other stuff.”

“Don’t you find that scary?”

“It’s humanity. We’ve survived so far,” said Krista.

“I can’t see how,” grumbled Oliver.

The two sat quietly watching TV for a couple of minutes.

“It’s the kind of thing that makes you believe there’s a God.”

Krista smirked. “Amen to that.”


About vanyieck

There is nothing about me that is more interesting than you. I am a man. I have a wife and family. I have a career. I have two dogs. I
This entry was posted in China, farm, farmer, fiction, flash fiction, God, humor, humour, short fiction, short story, story and tagged , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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