Totalitarian Society Story #2
![A glass of bloody milk](https://i0.wp.com/skribeworks.com/wp-content/uploads/2023/11/SpiltMilk.png?resize=768%2C500&ssl=1)
I am happy. The street is clean and damp. I wait for my succulent loaf of bread, and my 453.6 grams of wholesome milk. The queue is not long. The people are cheerful and consistent.
Oh no!
A reckless man brushes past a small child. She spills her milk. The nourishing and satisfying food wasted.
The man hurries on, lacking heed.
A woman opens her eyes wide. She opens her mouth wide. She is about to scream.
I sense an opportunity. Heart-swelling.
I draw my service revolver. I aim. I fire. The impatient man’s head explodes. He falls to the ground.
I bow, low.
“I am from the government,” I recite loudly, “and I am here to help.”