Milk.
It is the very essence of life.
The very first sensation that enters everyone's lips when they are born. The very foundation from which they receive nutrition and draw sustenance.
Every human started off with milk, yet... It's surprising how quickly they forget.
The human mind is fickle, so they tend not to remember when Milk was everything to them. When Milk was the only thing they needed. Some even claim they are lactose intolerant, pathetic!
Well... not all humans are like this.
Thankfully there are still some of them that remember the past, and hold on to the beauty of the nectar of life.
Luke is one of such people.
Milk remains everything to Luke. It's just a shame that no one else shares that sentiment with him...
Even if such people exist, Luke hasn't met them.
Who am I, one might ask?
Well, I am just the narrator and…Someone who also loves milk!
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Each morning, as the rooster announced the dawn, Luke would rise from his bed, the scent of earth and hay filling his senses.
He relished the rhythm of the gentle mooing of his beloved cows as they roused from slumber, and the clatter of buckets against the worn wooden flooring of the barn.
He was a simple dairy farmer, living and working in the embrace of the countryside.
The vast open fields were his world, the cows were his faithful companions.
His hands were his tools, roughened by years of labor, his skin tanned from days under the vast country sky.
Luke delivered the milk to a large company, a faceless entity interested only in profits and time efficiency.
They did not understand Luke's way of life, his code. They pressured him, urging him to buy a milking machine.
"You'd save so much time, you know," they'd say, their city-slick accents feeling out of place amongst the rolling hills and muddy lanes of his farm.
But milking the cows wasn't just a task to Luke.
It was a connection, a bond formed over the years, between Luke and the creatures that provided his livelihood.
The milk harvested by one's own hands tasted the best, he believed.
For all Luke's reverence for tradition, he also harbored dreams and aspirations. There was a part of him that longed for more than just the rolling fields and grazing cattle.
Perhaps a companion to share his life with, someone who understood his cause, and a chance to see what lies beyond the country roads with that special somebody.
Yet, the responsibilities of the farm were unyielding for Luke. Then the threats began, their contract hanging over Luke's head like a guillotine.
"Modernize or be left behind," they said.
No other company would accept Luke either, not without the involvement of technology.
'If I don't give in... my life will be over.'
Begrudgingly... He relented and bought a milking machine.
The day it arrived, Luke's heart was heavy.
It was a monstrosity of metal and wires, its cold surface standing stark against the warmth of his barn.
He went about his work, feeding the cows, tending to the fields, and then, with a heavy heart... He turned to the machine, pressing a button to turn it on.
~BZZZZTTTTTZZZ!!!~
A sharp jolt shot through Luke, searing pain radiating from his fingertips to the farthest corners of his body.
In Luke's last moments, as darkness crept in from the edges of his vision, his mind swirled with regret.
'I shouldn't have broken my pact with nature, with the cows... with Milk itself!' The dreams he held so close, now felt so far away.
The gentle laugh of a woman he had never met, the cities he had never visited, all slipping away.
Luke was dying alone, unfulfilled. At that moment, he wished for a second chance, a chance to live the life he had always dreamed of.
'To think... to think I would die a virgin.' Luke thought as he grasped the air as if squeezing something. Even though he couldn't feel anything, it felt as if I was grabbing onto something different—from cow tits. It was very tender and meaty.
As everything faded to black, Luke's last thoughts were of the cows.
He could almost feel their warm breath, hear their gentle mooing, and see their kind, understanding eyes.
'I wished I could tell them I was sorry, that I wished I could've stayed'.
'I wish... I could have milked them some more.'
And then, there was nothing.
~ZTTTTZZZZ!~
[System Alert]
{Goddess Hesat, the progenitor of Milk, and only owner of Divine Milk, has taken an interest in you. She wishes to reward you for your dedication, and forgive you for your single transgression}
~You Will Now Receive Your Reward~
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[A/N]
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