0800 Hours: Recording #005

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“0800 hours. Three days since the car broke down. Dad's got no idea what's wrong with it, and we've got no way to get it to a repairs shop or anything. Hell, the workers are probably all dead from inflammation or internal haemorrhaging or whatever the fuck the Infection does to you nowadays...”

The narrative trails off, silenced by scrunching plastic, followed by a dismayed whine.

And we've ran out of digestives. We're running pretty low on food in general actually. I'll probably have to go down and raid the Co-Op with dad tomorrow. We pretty much just have to stick to tinned stuff and long life food now, seeing as the restocks stopped coming months back. It's a bit shit, to be perfectly honest. I'm pure craving a big glass of creamy whole milk.”

The words make way for a pause, during which lips smack together yearningly.

“I also kinda miss tap water.”

Click.

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