I woke up on my living room floor

Passed out from apparent intoxication

An empty bottle of vodka

And several crushed up cans of beer

Adorned my otherwise spotless apartment

Ok, that wasn’t quite true

I hadn’t swept in some time

Dishes had piled up on the sink

And six glass milk canisters

Sat, probably spoiling, on the counter

That’s odd, I thought

The milk wasn’t supposed to come until tomorrow

And why hadn’t I put it away?

The air smelled rich and metallic

With the scent of rotting dairy

I was lying on something

A quite unorthodox pillow

A leather bound book that I didn’t recognize

Leafing through it only added to my confusion

“The Holy Bible” read the first page

A book I’ve never owned

I sat up, confused and a bit frightened

With no recollection of what happened the night before.

To my left, a large bicycle tire is leaned against the television

Busted flat as though it had been punctured

I don’t own a bike, I muttered

My stomach grumbled loudly

Perhaps if I eat, I can think more clearly, I thought

I stumble to the freezer to see what I have left

Strange, I don’t remember having so much meat

Could it have been a gift from somebody?

I shrug and put on a pot of coffee

It’s obvious I’m still somewhat inebriated

I pick up the beer cans and toss them in the bin

As I flip on the radio to the morning news

Eager for something normal

“Three members of the community went missing last night,

A milkman, a pastor, and a renowned cyclist.

If anyone has any knowledge of their whereabouts,

Please contact the authorities immediately.”

My stomach sank to my feet

The milk upon the counter,

The Bible on the floor

The tire leaned against the wall

I feel my face turning green

As horror fills my entire being

The world spins fast around me,

Unrelenting and out of control

I know what happened to those three missing men

The milkman, the pastor, and the cyclist

Are safely stored in my freezer