The life itself


After he defeated armies, conquered countries, shot the rebels and shared out the loot of war, the boy turns off the Play Station and answers the call.
There’s milk on the table going cold, the milk that a cow produced, a dairy farmer milked, a truck driver transported, a factory pasteurized and homogenized, a shop keeper sold and the boy’s mother heated up, sweetened and put the chocolate in.
-I don’t want milk, I want whisky! –the boy screams.
The mother slaps him on the face and the boy drinks it without a word.

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