Milk

"Best we just wait here.", Jeff said: "seems daft to go outside."
June was engrossed in her cross stitch, and nodded mechanically at his side.

"Shall I put the kettle on?", he looked at her and said.
June was mumbling away to herself, glancing up briefly, still nodding her head.

"If you wouldn't mind dear. But not too milky this time."- he hated it when she said that: "How about you make it next time?"

He knew she wasn't even listening, just sat there nodding her head.
In a way he didn't mind, at least he could tell she wasn't dead.

Because everyone was dying, they had said so on the news.
On sky news and the BBC, they both had the same views.

It had been some kind if gas leak, bio-gas and such.
Jeff didn't really understand, so he hadn't taken in much.

"Oh dear, we're out of milk love!"

"Never mind dear", her reply: "The shop should still be open Jeff, it doesn't shut until five!"

'Doesn't close until five?', he thought: 'I'd better get a move on quick'.
They had some powder milk in the cupboard, but that always smelt like sick.

He fumbled through his pocket, and counted his loose change.
Enough for milk and biscuits, although going out felt strange.

What about the emergency? The one mentioned on T.v?
The shop was only down the road, how bad could it be?

It would only take a few minutes, to get to the shop and back.
Jeff checked himself in the mirror, as he put on his cap and rain mac.

It was not particularly cold outside, with little chance of rain.
But every time Jeff left the house, he always wore the same.

"See you in a bit love!", Jeff called back through the door.
Closing it behind him, and dropping his cane on the floor.

"Oh Bugger!", Jeff said out loud, not noticing the chaos in the street.
He couldn't bend easy to get it, he wasn't to steady in his feet.

He used the door for balance, as he lifted the cane with his foot.
Just high enough to reach it wincing at the effort it took.

He couldn't hear the commotion outside, at 84 he was nearly deaf.
And he couldn't really see too well, without his glasses, poor old Jeff.

Now he hobbled down the high street, towards the local store.
He was going as fast as he possibly could, co's his watch said 4:54.

June had got him the watch for Xmas, with it's big LED display.
He could see the big red numbers well, so he knew the time of day.

"Maybe it's a street party?", he thought as he shuffled along.
He thought he heard music and singing.
He couldn't tell what was going on.

Had he seen the scene around him, no doubt Jeff would turn back.
A scene of such intense horror, to induce a heart attack.

Jeff just hurried on, regardless, to the dying and the dead.
The feeding and the feasting, concentrating on walking instead.

Each footstep was an effort, every yard felt like a mile.
Each time he made the journey now, it became a harder trial.

Somehow he had managed, to make it there unseen.
To the little 'Happy Shopper' store, where so often he had been.

The entrance was wide open, though he almost slipped on the floor.
"Excuse me! Someone's spilt something here!", he called out in the store.

He waited for an answer, but there came no reply.
Perhaps they had gone to fetch a mop? He thought to himself with a sigh.

He picked a pint of milk up, then digestive biscuits and bread.
He thought: If this was Tesco's, I'd have got Hob-Nob's instead!

He shuffled over to the counter, this time careful not to slip.
'Maybe they have a leak?', he thought, 'never mind, they'll be back in a bit.'

Jeff detested 'Self-Service', he hoped they didn't have it here now.
He couldn't use the damn things, just didn't have a clue how.

The ground at his feet was sticky, must be something sweet spilt on the floor.
He put a handful of change on the counter, he just couldn't wait anymore.

Back outside again, it was noisy, people cheering, he thought, and steel drums.
He had always enjoyed a street party, Jeff smiled then revealing his gums.

A couple of times Jeff was jostled, and he'd simply said: "Here! Hang about!"
But the surrounding noise and commotion, had muffled his elderly shout.

He made his way home as fast as he could, when he got there the front door was wide.
He was sure that he had closed it, maybe June had popped outside?

Gone round to the neighbours, probably gone round to borrow milk.
He went in with a whistle, to his favourite Acker Bilk.

It was a habitual whistle, to "Stranger on the shore".
Jeff was a creature of habit, whenever he felt unsure.

Because something didn't feel right, and he wasn't quite sure why.
Why the front door was left open, and June was on the floor with some guy!!

Jeff was instantly outraged, and he poked at them both with his cane.

"Is this what you're up to when I go out?!", he said, clutching his chest in pain.

Not for a moment did Jeff consider, that something was horribly wrong.
In forty five years of marriage, he'd suspected June all along.

But now he'd caught her 'at it', and he'd only nipped to the shop!
But what was hurting Jeff the most, he was there, and they wouldn't stop!!

The young man was 'snogging her face off', was that lipstick all over her face?
A woman of her age carrying on, oh what a bloody disgrace!

Both of them moaning and groaning, both of them naked as sin.
Poor old Jeff just dropped down dead, his broken heart gave in.

Sad, those final moments, when the poor old fella died.
As milk got spilt on the carpet, and June got eaten alive.