Rising energy bills and the fight for the good chair

You are still wearing one boot when an email from the utility company appears on your phone. You open it, look at the amount, then look again. The plan was to make tea and read for an hour. Now you're standing in the hallway, coat half off, wondering how keeping the same house warm has become so much more expensive.

In the Midwestern bungalow we've imagined here, the porch light is on by five, the front steps need sweeping clear of snow, and damp gloves have been left on the bench by the door. Inside, there is dark oak trim and a sofa deep enough for someone to fall asleep before choosing a film. A lamp makes a yellow pool on the rug. From the sidewalk, through the curtains, it looks like exactly the house you would want to come home to.

It still is. You love the timber around the doorways and the slightly ridiculous amount of room given over to books. But a higher energy bill can make you look at a loved house differently. The generous front window begins to seem overgenerous. When the furnace starts up, you notice. You check the thermostat on your way to the kitchen, though you know perfectly well what it says.

Dinner is leftovers at the table, with the phone beside the salt. Across from you, your partner has a theory about the bill; you have a different one. Neither of you has checked the billing dates yet. A conversation that could have been about your day becomes a discussion of whether the house was this expensive to heat last winter. By the time the plates are cleared, the book looks especially inviting.

The reading chair was put by the front window in summer. It made sense then: afternoon light, a view of the maple, somewhere to put a cup without balancing it on your knee. Tonight, you settle into it and draw your feet up. A few pages later, you fetch a cardigan. Then you move to the sofa. The book, cup and reading glasses follow in separate journeys because you keep forgetting one of them.

On the sofa, your partner has just started a crime drama, and its detectives have a great deal to discuss. You try reading beside them. Someone asks whether you recognise the actor. You do, but only from another crime drama. By the end of page eleven, you know more about the fictional murder than the novel you have chosen. Across the rug, the empty chair looks handsome and thoroughly unhelpful.

Electricity prices rose 4.4% between September 2025 and September 2026 in the Bureau of Labor Statistics' US city-average measure. Individual bills also depend on local rates and how much energy a household uses.

You pick up the phone and open the account again. Your partner asks whether you are cold. It is a straightforward question, until you start working out what the answer might cost. You say you could do with your chair back. At least that is something you can sort out between you.

At the next pause in the programme, the chair gets moved. It takes two people, an awkward lift and the discovery of a pen neither will claim. Away from the front window, angled towards the room, it fits beside the end of the sofa. The lamp moves with it. So does the little table, because there has already been enough walking around with a cup tonight.

There is a bare patch where the chair stood. You notice how much space has been devoted to a view nobody can see after five. From the new position, you can reach the coffee table without getting up, although you still have to persuade your partner to pass the glasses.

The account will need another look tomorrow, with the dates checked this time, and the cold spot by the window still needs attention. For now, the television is turned down a little. A second lamp is on. The cardigan has been abandoned over the arm of the chair, which makes it rather difficult for anyone else to claim they thought the seat was free.

Outside, a car goes slowly past the porch. Inside, there is the small clink of a spoon being retrieved from a mug, followed by a question about the actor again. You keep your place with a finger and look up. It is the same actor. You still don't know his name.