Meatless

He prepped what would be his last meal. He threw the fresh bloody red meat onto the board and cut it finely. No resistance from the muscles that hours before failed the old wild boar and led it to its death. His hope was that he would have enough time to perfectly cook it. An old boar could not be prepped quickly as his long years of experience had proved. 7 hours, would he still have all that time? He looked outside; skies had gone from banana to an apricot shade that had enveloped the world. All of this in just 3 months. Sure enough there wasn’t much time, but he believed it would be enough to prepare and enjoy a luxurious last meal. 

The human race was then anxiously anticipating what was to come. Surprisingly, the chaos did not set. Wolf had been called out many times before and the symptoms of what they'd done had now been visible for a long time. There was nothing left to be done, this was it. No other options but to enjoy the time left. Many cried, many called their loved ones between the tears. Others, the over-thinkers, who could never only enjoy the present, anxiously wondered what the end would feel like. 

His skills had never failed him before, this time was no different. The meal was absolutely delicious, cooked to perfection and he was proud of the accomplishment. He had wished to have someone to share it with, but it was too late now to be thinking about that kind of trivial things. Nothing to be done now but enjoy what was left.  

The end never came. Or did it? That is the beautiful of it, isn’t it? You will never know, because you won’t be here to tell if it does. Only those who stay can tell and he had no one who'd notice his absence. There was fairness in the end, equality came at once.

No one stayed.

And so maybe there was no end, no one was left to say.

Oh wait. 

What? 

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What is that? 

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Who are you? 

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WHEN are you? 

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I guess there was an end after all.  

Here you are.  

Reading this story. 

AHEM 

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I shall continue. 

Here we go - 

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Just know: It was nothing like you have seen in films.

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He did not open his eyes, grasping for air. His stomach simply rumbled as if he hadn’t eaten for a few hours although he felt like it had been a couple of days. Standing too fast makes him lose his eyesight for a second, along with his balance. He stumbles to the fridge, longing for a simple serrano ham and cheese sandwich, realising that there was still some bread left. A nightmare unfolded before his eyes once he opened the fridge door. His nostrils recoiled with the awful smell that penetrated through and slapped him by surprise.  

Anything would have sufficed him in that moment but there was absolutely nothing edible in the cottage. He looked around, opened all the old cabinets looking for something edible but, nothing. Everything was rotten to its core or had been half eaten by then. Something was not right. Hunger did not allow him to use the full extent of his brain and notice at the time but even though most of the food was somehow eaten, there were no bugs around it. 

He went outside, towards the orchard. An apple, an orange, anything would suffice for now. He just needed to quiet down his stomach so his brain could start working properly again. The sky was back to its bright blue, painting an image that besides all his efforts, had never been so pleasing. Pops of orange predominated in what used to be a near brown sight. The branches weighted down by the delicious fruit that it barred. He reached up and grabbed the sweetest apple he had ever tasted. He immediately thought of the amazingly beautiful pork loin roast that he could do with those apples but for now, he kept eating. Almost like he would never become satisfied again.

Despite his exhaustion, he knew better to take care of the herd. 

But there was nothing there. Nothing where the pigs once wandered, and the calves used to jump and play around. 

He walked back to his cottage; a nap would fix whatever was wrong and he could go on with his sad meaningless life. Because what else can you do? What would you do when you’ve done your part in life and you have no one to share what is left with... 

The next morning Alex woke up and the thought of what had happened the night before did not even cross his mind. He dressed and stepped outside, and as per his routine he began the short journey towards his precious Sunshine who had provided him with milk for the past eight years. But once again, a nightmare unveiled before his eyes and he quickly realised that the previous day hadn’t been a dream. What remained of his sweet Sunshine laid dead at his feet. Society had long accepted men's feelings, but he came from a time when men were supposed to ‘suck it up’ and ‘deal with it’ and as so, he got to it. 

His mind shot into a multitude of directions. He wondered how he would be able to provide for himself now. 

As Alex had never trusted banks, he got digging for some of his savings. He took out £500 out of one pot and buried it again in another location. The money he had would not be enough for the rest of his retired life now that he would have to buy everything. Of course, he could just sell his fruits and vegetables but that would entail a daily trip to the market and socialising and be nice to others. 

Skipping his breakfast, he got into his rusty motorcycle and drove into the nearest town. It was quieter than ever and so, the noise of his motorcycle caught every one's attention, penetrating the ears of everyone around that were now only used to the children’s laughs that echoed through the city. 

He steps into the market, where the cashier greets him with a forced smile. He walks around, looking for the dairy aisle. ‘These damn things, always changing’ he mumbled ‘Same bullshit all the time, once you get use to the new layout, they change it again’. After the third walk around the market, Alex left, annoyed as he couldn’t find any milk. ‘How is it possible that a market doesn’t have any milk? Everyone needs milk!’ 

Alex went to three more markets until he couldn’t handle his hunger anymore. He stepped into the first pub. 

- Heya! How can I help you? - asked the young bartender 

- Hello there, mate. Can I get a pint of Stella and some fish and chips please?  

- No worries! 

He goes to take a seat and downs his first pint while waiting for his meal. When the waiter comes with his food, he requests another pint. The food was delicious. Or probably he was just starving, once again. 

Analysing his meal, as one does, he was pretty satisfied, although he noticed something wrong with the texture of the fish despise its superfluous taste. Somehow his grocery shopping had become a journey, so after a delicious meal, Alex continued his way to the next shop, hoping this time he could finally find himself some milk.  He had never thought of himself as a quitter but eventually he gave up and asked for help.  

- ‘Excuse me’ - mumbled Alex to the fat employer 

- ‘Good afternoon, sir. Can I help you?’ - Alex had never seen such a happy supermarket employer 

- ‘Can you tell me where I could find some milk?’ 

- ‘Of course, aisle 4, sir. Would you like me to take you there?’ 

- ‘Hum yes. I swear I’ve been there, and I couldn’t find it’ and Alex followed the  woman.

- ‘Right here, sir’ 

- ‘For fuck’s sake! Not soya milk! Normal milk, cow’s milk! 

The woman laughed in Alex’s face and walked away which made him even more upset. ‘How could this be? What the fuck was going on?’ he thought. A thought crossed him mind and so he started looking for cheese. Couldn’t find any either. Then he thought ‘What about eggs?’ There was no surprise when he realised there were no eggs either. Confusion filled his mind. He looked for some indication of it to be a vegan store. These trends were becoming more and more popular. But it would be impossible that every store in town would be vegan, not a chance!

Darkness was then replacing what had been a bright blue sky and Alex decided to give up and just this once buy dairy alternatives although he had never understood this. Why not just have cheese? It was perfection, why the need to create something else? 

Alex spends the whole way home thinking of what he would cook once he got home. He thought we could make a pasta dish. Maybe a vegan carbonara? Hopefully that shitty cheese he had bought would melt enough. He had always thought of himself as an amazing chef and all his achievements and prizes have always assured him of that but when it came the time to taste his meal, he was not happy. He hadn’t made something so horrible since he was a toddler. 

The next day, he thought of trying something he hadn’t done in a while. Ducking some webs, he went back to his basement and picked up the arrow again. His father had taught him and his siblings (What is of them?) long ago how to hunt, back to the family trips they used to do to the cabin. He spent hours and hours in those woods, using the techniques that had been long lost in his brain. But nothing. There wasn’t a single movement in the 18hours he had spent there. Not a one signal of any kind of life. 

Stubborn as always, Alex went back the next day. A sunny day but still no sign of life. That was until... 

Alex heard something and shot his shot in its direction. He heard a quick cry, assuring him he had not failed. He ran to it but once he got there, he realised he had not shot an animal. Not one he could cook with at least...  

Or could he? 

It was dead anyway.  

For sure he couldn’t let all this meat go to waste. 

He carried in his back; it couldn’t have been more that 8 years old. He walked anxiously, drooling for the young tender meat he had been longing for and had finally got his hands on. 

Laying it down on his long wooden table, he started by cutting the head off. He wouldn’t use it, so Alex made a mental note to bury it later, aching to start cooking. He chopped off one of the arms and brought it up to the kitchen, where soon an amazing smell would be warming up the cabin. He decided to prepare a classic roast 'beef'. He had missed moments like this, dancing around the kitchen, chopping and preparing all the ingredients. It didn’t take long for it to be ready and soon enough he was sat at the dinner table, ready to taste the beautifully prepared meal.  

He was not ready for it. The taste, the texture, the balance in flavours was absolutely incredible. He had never been so proud of his talent.

Alex was sure accidents would happen again.