a man is not a fish
A week had gone by and the magnitude of the 'mundanity' had struck him deep, he was a self-proclaimed adrenaline junkie, or at least had been before he had his biggest ever cluster-fuck happen; missing to get on the last shuttle of the planet. The epicness of his failure and the realization that he would perish alone in a city that was only inhabited by himself, ghosts and one individual named Tom, had left him in a lethargic apathy, from which he saw no reason climb out off. There was all the food in the world, all the time in the world, since the globe had not gone up in smoke yet, as the government had promised would happen. He had no boss to please or rent to pay. While this latter was a relief, yet it left him without a purpose and without a mission and he had now learnt the life lesson that there was no freedom in utter freedom from everything and everybody.
Now the strangest thing had happened - he had found a new purpose.
His preference for milk as part of his diet and the fact that the city was totally out of milk - had given him a new purpose. However fragile and laughable that purpose, it was one and he clinged to it like a one would a plank of wood out at sea.
Armed with his 4.5 millimeter air-rifle and his red kicks, he started on thee journey which would become the start of his new life. His destination?
The library - the tomb of knowledge.
The sun was on the rise from the east and benignly warmed his face, he had considered going to the next town which had it's own library, but on second thought he wanted to make sure he found the information that he was looking for and so he was headed for the Central Library of Copenhagen. He took the route along the coast, getting sand in his shoes as he walked. White fluffy clouds crept across the baby-blue sky, the blue-grey ocean resisting the sky's optimism - he kicked off his shoes and lost himself in following the display of acrobatics, which a gang of swallows were performing death-defyingly close to the angry waves. For those few kilometers he walked he lost his thoughts in the sea and it's companions who seemed not to have noticed the end of humanity's reign on the planet. He felt released and care-free, slanting towards agreeing with the birds that all that had occurred was 'no big deal'.
As he crossed the "LongBridge" that connected the island of Amager to the very center of Copenhagen, the sun was higher and burnt his shoulders, he stopped like he often did and admired the view of the so-called "Island-Harbour". He spotted a speed-boat abandoned, its two gigantic motors promising adventure. He decided he would check it out on his way back, maybe he could get it started. He smiled as he realized, that he could also look up some books on ignitions in the library, so he could learn to hot-wire vehicles and specifically that speed-boat. His adrenaline pumped as he realized he could, if he learnt to hot-wire, find ANY car he wanted and ride ride ride! Lamborghini, Ferrari, Porsche...
His transient moment of bliss was interrupted as he spotted a figure moving along the harbor, he gripped the railing hard and leant forward, squinting his eyes to see.
It WAS a man and what's more it was not Tom! Someone else was here! He opened his mouth to yell, but something inside him made him hesitant in hollering out. As a precaution he loaded his pellet shooter and observed the man a bit longer. The man was hunched over and moved in an odd ragged way, stopping from time to time to pick something up and either put it in his mouth or toss it away dismissively. It was as if he all of a sudden got his vision adjusted, as it dawned on him that the man was NAKED! He wore nothing, except thick dirt and hair left to grow unhindered.
He stood undecided on what to do now - this was after all only the third person he had seen since the incident and there might not be others, but conversely he would not want to have that man near him. He decided to keep walking, but as if on cue, as soon as he had thought the thought, the man jerked his head up and looked straight at him.
The man growled! He then pointed up at him as if accusingly. With a louder growl he threw himself on all four and ran like a mad monkey in a side-ways manner in his direction. He aimed the pellet gun, but could not get himself to shoot, besides he would probably miss at this distance and altitude. The idiocy of running straight in his direction did not seem apparent to the man who picked up speed, there was water between them and 10 meters distance vertically to where he stood safely on top of the bridge. The man moved forward unhindered, not taking his eyes of him and just like that ran right off the docks and into the water. Nothing resurfaced but bubbles.
OUT OF MILK - THE STORY-BLOG
Come over here and waste your time with the story of one who survived the end of the world, only to find first-world problems were still problems. Join us on this quest for more milk.
"OUT OF MILK - THE BLOG-STORY" Copyright 2019 AMADREAS MEDIA.