START
By the time Deputy Robert got inside, Milly had gone and killed near on everybody. Sandra and her husband were down there on the floor, holes in them. Old Cess from the town council was still sitting upright, but he was all white. Leanne was a mess. Pete was a mess too, his arm folded under. There was an entire table of pensioners: stone, cold dead. Everyone was dead, except the cook. The cook stood out back, too scared to move, staring out through the servery window. Robert gave him a silent nod and kept walking.
Milly sat up at the counter like a customer.
‘Milly?’ Robert said. ‘You need to stand up for me, girl.’
She looked over. ‘Oh god.’ She almost laughed.
‘I ain’t gonna hurt you. I just got this gun so you don’t hurt me.’
Milly sipped her coffee. ‘You can take me in once I’m done with this.’
‘What happened?’
There was something wet under his foot.
‘Oh, Robbie… I ain’t been feeling so hot. And well, that dipshit over there, he never tips. Today, I finally said something. It’s been years, you know, of him not tipping. I went, at least tip the jar Petey. And Petey there, he just picks the tip jar and tips it, like tips the whole jar up on its side then puts it back down. I guess that was all it took.’
Robert felt he should’ve been shocked, and would’ve been had he not been reading the daily reporting.
There was more and more of it every week.
Order was slipping.
Milly turned her mug on the counter.
She said, ‘You want some of this?’
END
— IAIN
PS: Read my public-facing thoughts Twitter and see how I live my life on Instagram.
PPS: This newsletter is brought to you by Smoke Ring For My Halo by Kurt Vile.
PPPS: Buy my new book THE STRIP, it’s available everywhere (including Amazon):