The day everything went perfect was the day she died.
It was the milk. The 2% all-natural organic milk, which had been sitting in the fridge for just a day too long. The milk's expiration date was October 3rd. It was currently October 2nd, and this was a carton of very punctual milk, which had no intention of being late, fashionably or otherwise.
The voice, muffled in the distance of the line, said words. Words that were unimportant, like the milk, when not strung together.
The same day that the 2% all-natural organic milk was set to go bad. To spoil and curdle into undrinkable sludge.
Undrunk.
YOU ARE READING
Entropy
Short StoryA story about love, despair, and chaos, told in fragments. Her screams echoed inside the glass coffin. I heard them. She scratched her fingernails bloody on the hard case that kept her inside. I felt the blood trickle down my own hands. She pounded...
