Another Normal Monday

Jim hadn't slept well. He'd been up late, what with one thing and another, nothing specific, just stuff. Then he'd woken at 6am, well before his alarm, just unable to sleep. He didn't know what was wrong. Nothing was wrong. Everything was normal. What could possibly be wrong?

He got up and wandered around the flat. He made breakfast, eating it slowly, as his sleep-deprived mind considered the world. Nothing was wrong. What could possibly be wrong?

He washed, dressed, and went out into a sunny, warm, bright, day. He couldn't pay it any attention, however. Because nothing was wrong. Everything was normal and fine. Nothing was wrong.

He didn't know what he was doing outside. He was supposed to go get something. Was it milk? It was usually milk. And bread. He couldn't quite remember. Eggs and baked beans too. That sounded right. He needed to go get milk. 

The roads were empty. He took the long route, taking in what little of the warm day reached into his sleepless mind. The grass was green, smelling of a warm spring, as the flowers began to bloom. The park was empty and quiet. It was a Monday. There was never anyone around on a Monday. He walked past the park, the swings making small noises as they were pushed by the light breeze. There was never anyone in the park. It was a Monday.

The supermarket was open, though a strange odour rang out from what had once been fresh produce. Jim looked at the bakery bread, but decided against it. He didn't want to cut off anymore green mould. The fresh milk, likewise, was starting to look questionable, what little milk was left. He shrugged. UHT milk it was then, and the cheap, processed bread. 

There was no one at the tills. For a moment he thought about how it didn't matter. It hadn't mattered for a long time. He pushed what he had through the self-service till, glad it never screamed or cried out at him. The machines were fine. It was the people who had always been a problem.

Jim walked home, through the empty car park, past the medical centre, past the skip. The flies had begun to crawl all over the skip now. Each wore a coat of red after having visited Jim's skip. They'd be crawling through it all for a long time. Jim wondered if they'd found the other skips. They probably had. He watched a fly crawl across its new red home, laying little eggs. Jim remembered he'd forgotten to get eggs. He shrugged. They were probably all going rotten by now. Maybe he'd have to move somewhere that had eggs. That would be nice. He could fill another skip.