Alternative sources of energy... (story)

As I hiked in the woods, I stopped by for a night at a leanto. There was a man and his wife there. The wife was tired and quietly breathed in her sleeping bag. The man was making tea on the fire. When the tea was done, he pored, what looked like whiskey, in his cup and offered some to me. I didn't mind. We started to talk. He seemed distressed and I asked him why. He sighed and began his story...

I have a lot of source material -- he said -- wood. I use this wood to warm my house. It's not very efficient, but it works. Now, a friend with a chain saw offers his help chopping wood. I love it. I build a huge house 'cause I have a lot of wood now. Time goes by. I forget that sometimes I went to friends houses to warm up there and sometimes I invited them over. I have everything I need to have fun in my huge house.

Now, I also forgot that my woodpecker friend chops my own wood. And he does such good job at it that I'm running out of wood on my property. He is ready to chop. I tell him to hold on, but he points out to the contract we signed... he wants to keep chopping wood, because he wants to get paid. He is hungry for money, and he's willing to work hard.

I was anxious to know the man's plan out of his trouble. Will he try to install a solar panel to warm up his house? Will he abandon most of his house and only warm out his original small room? Will he through a party for his friends and ask for their advice?

The man telling the story stopped and reached for his sleeping bag.
Soon, I heard his snore on next to his wife. The night was cold. Logs in the fire war almost done. I looked at the myriad of stars over my head. Found the big dipper, the small one, the Polaris. The constellation of Cassiopeia shone brighter than I've ever seen it. She was here before me and before this man and his wife, and it will be here after we're gone.

And then, suddenly, it occurred to me. I was part of man's plan. He could not decide what to do with his house, because he was too worried by his problem. So, he decided to take a vacation and tell his story to people like me. Now, while I worried for him, he slept calmly in his place. I felt angry and used. This was a terrible price to pay for a cup of tea, even if the the unknown ingredient was 18 year old single malt Glenfiddich.