Okay, so "Before" is going to be a series of mostly unconnected one-shots about life in Pre-War America.

Just a little warning that applies to whole series: I'm basing the morals of the Pre-War America on the morals of 50's America so there will be racism, bigotry (i.e: disdain toward others religions that Christianism), classism (disdain toward the poors and the working class), sexism and homophobia.

I do not embrace any of those , I just think it's a fair look at what Pre-War America was.
As an aside, I need the opinion of someone knowledgeable in economics for figuring out how much things would cost in Pre-War USA.

With that happy note done, I would like to ask for review. In two months of writing, JannerBr and Myron23 are the only ones to have reviewed anything so far and I know there's more than two persons reading what I write. So please, please, review my work. I want to know your opinion, what I coud do to make it better, what you liked, what you didn't, etc...

Anyway, onward with the next one-shot.

Grumbling, Alex reached for the multimeter in his box. Being an electrician paid well but he still didn't like the fact that he had to spend most of his days either crouching to look at some electrical junction box after moving a pile of stuff or squirm behind some furniture placed in front of it and that the owner didn't move because "it's too heavy". At the very least this junction box wasn't difficult to access. The only minor problem was that it had the fuses of the whole building and, as such, the only source of light was the flashlight mounted on his shoulder.

So he was testing each of the fuses to see which one was malfunctioning which, normally, wouldn't be too much of a problem, but the owner of the house didn't know which fuse was responsible for which part of the building was getting electricity. Even worse, only three out of seven rooms' fuses were malfunctioning: The garage, where he was, the main bedroom and the kitchen.

"Mexican morons." he grumbled. "Can't even know which ones have burned out."

"You're all right, sir?" the wife of his client was slowly walking toward him, a candle in her hands.

"Yes. I just have to find which fuse don't work."

"Can we help?"

"Yes. Can you bring me a glass of water?"

"Of course sir." she left.

So, three fuses done and all of them worked perfectly. he moved to the next one. Electricity was coursing through it without problems. So the three last fuses had to be replaced.

So... three fuses at 10$ each, plus his deplacement at 40$, plus him doing the repairs... would cost them 120$.

He reached into his bag and took out three fuses, only leaving two in it. He would have to restock soon.

The replacement was quick enough, over just in time for his client to be back with a glass of water as the light came back in the garage.

"So?" he asked, spanish accent unmistakable.

"Well, I had to replace three of your fuses. Everything should work well for a long time now." answered Alex, turning his flashlight off and proceeding to store his equipment in his toolbox, "Also, you really should note each fuse connect to which room."

"Can you do that now, sir?"

"Yes. But i'll cost you 5$ more."

"How much will it be then?"

"125 dollars. I know it's a lot, but I guarantee you, you won't have any problem with this box for at least five years."

"Are you sure about that?"

"Absolutely."

"Then do you need my help deciding which fuse do what?"

"Yes. I already know this one is for the garage, but I'll need you to go upstairs and shout me which room goes dark when I remove a fuse. Can you do it?"

"Yes."

Sure enough, the whole thing was over in less than five minutes and Alex was shortly in his car. Even if Mr. Menendez didn't seem enthusiast about parting of so much money.

As he drove to his house, Alex hummed along the song on the radio. It was Saturday, 17h pm and his day was over. He wasn't working for two days and he would soon be with his wife. It was a good day. On top of that, the Menendez had only been his third client of the day, the first two being some guy named Clarke and another named Jackson. Both had been relatively simple, yet lengthy, repairs (Clarke's house had needed to have a hole made in his wall so he could access the wires and a warning that, no matter what kind of research the retired scientist was doing, plugging too many things in one place ended badly) that had paid well.

He parked the car in the alley half an hour later.

"Hello!" he shouted when he entered his house.

"Good afternoon, sir. It seems you are quite joyful today, sir. I trust your day went well."

"Extremely well, Codsworth. I assume Aby isn't here."

"Yes sir, she left this morning and hasn't returned yet. Shall I clean the car?"

"Not today, I haven't used it much. Thanks for asking anyway. What's for dinner?"

"I haven't prepared anything, sir. Shall I?"

"No need to, we'll do it."

"Thank you, sir. Now I'll moan the lawn."

"Go for it."

Not stopping, Alex went to the basement, putting down his toolbox and his work uniform in the washing machine. with a sight, he went outside with a chair and looked at the sky trying to think about what he and Aby could do tonight. And hour or so later, he got up and decided on making spaghetti with meatballs, one of the very few dishes he could prepare with his meager talent for cooking.

"Good evening, dear!" shouted Abigail as she entered the house.

"Evening, love." before Alex could add anything however...

"You cooked?! And the house hasn't burned down yet?"

"Not this time." he answered, laughing, "Figured you'd be back late so i prepared something. I hope you like , how was your day?"

"Boring. I argued my case for thirty minutes this morning and then the jury spent the rest of the day deciding. We couldn't leave the courtroom because they could be back at any moment."

"All day?"

"Yes, all day. It got so bad we had to send someone buy food for us. And those robes made us so hot almost everyone is the room wanted to leave after and hour."

"That bad?"

"Even worse. So, if you don't mind, I'm going to shower and then we'll eat."

"Take your time. Pasta won't be ready for twenty minutes."

"Thank you Alex, you're so sweet." And she left in a hurry.

The rest of the night was spent calmly eating and both of them fell asleep as soon as they laid on their bed. Too tired to even talk.

I think the end is a bit meh. Anyway, what do you think of it?