Elaine Abery - Tent

“It’s true. I lived in a tent for a year.”

“A whole year, uninterrupted?”

“Of course. A year’s a year… I don’t have any of the chicken salad yet.”

“How did you cook?” I ask as I pass the chicken salad. I assume that’s what she was asking me to do.

“We did it in community.”

“Cool. Did you have a roster? Take turns at who did what?”

“Oh no! Nothing so formal. We all just did what we felt like… I’ve only had 1 piece of bruschetta and you’ve had 3 already!”

“I see.” I ignore her bruschetta remark. I’m not sure what it meant.

“Did you move around?”

“Oh! Only when we felt like it.”

“How did you work out if enough people felt like it? Was there a hierarchy or voting system?”

“Oh no! Well, if you didn’t want to move, you stayed behind.”

“And left your community?”

“Oh! Nothing that drastic… My glass is empty.” She points past the wine she brought – unopened – to the special gift bottle of wine on display in the wine rack.

I stand up to go to the toilet. She pulls her seat backwards and blocks my passage.

“Would you mind…” I start

“I was an honoured member of the community. They wouldn’t have moved without me. I even had my own special tent.”