Easy Come, Easy Go (Dec29 Daily Flash)

The plastic lid came loose with a pop.

Half full.

Gingerly, he dipped his calloused fingers into the tin. He was unable to discern the colour of the particulate in the dim light, but the texture felt promising: it was like fine sand...

Or sugar?

He dared not hope. Parting his mouth, the tiny scars around his lips opened for the umpteenth time. He brought a dab of the contents to his tongue and waited: nothing. By now, his mouth was so swollen and dry that most sensations of taste were beyond him. In an inspired moment, he rubbed the powder back and forth across his upper gums. Slowly, traces of saliva trickled down to his tongue.

Bitter, hint of milk, and sugar. What a stroke of luck!

There was a time before "The Riots" when he would have turned his nose at the thought of instant coffee. But now, he wept with joy and croaked out a simple tune.

His celebration was cut short by a crash. Tucking the coffee tin under his arm, he dashed out of the abandoned house Whatever else was in those cupboards would have to wait.

As his eyes acclimated to the daylight, he saw that his shopping cart had been tipped over, and his possessions were strewn all over. In the distance, a dog was running away with the last of his beef jerky.

He drew his gun.

"You mangy cur! You stinking flea ridden mongrel!" He cursed until his voice gave out.

The dog was gone.

"I can't believe that just happened."

Defeated, he sat down, cradling the weapon.

The last shot had been years ago, when he put down the last of the living dead. Now, only one bullet remained.

"Not today," He opened the tin and dipped his finger inside.