The Milk by Jeremy Platt

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“ Did you remember to get the milk?”


“It’s not in the fridge or on the table”

‘Well what happened was … when I went outside, the sky was a beautiful

powder blue and the afternoon was wonderfully warm. It reminded me of when I lived in

Cadiz. I started thinking about that chord in Pavane for a Dead Princess, you know, we talked about it. I looked up at the empty sky and it seemed to go on and on and I thought about how it would be to get above the sky, the heavens unfastened like in Neruda, higher and higher until you’re in space. Just an infinite nothingness. Then further and further until you find distant galaxies.

All that space felt pointless. I thought maybe, if we’re living in a simulation, it would be such a waste if the parent universe, or base reality, if you will, created so much empty space purely to observe how evolution panned out on earth. And that made me think of other ideas about creation. I thought, maybe I’m living in a  solipsistic universe where I’m the only real person. Perhaps I’m an experiment and everyone else is a robot who is testing me – a very nice robot in your case, obviously. It made me think that there’s no way of knowing anything for sure is there? I mean people used to think that Newtonian physics was the whole story but now it’s only part of the story and we don’t even know what consciousness is do we or even if it actually exists? So there’s no way of knowing anything for sure is there? There’s no objective truth.

“ But did you get the milk?”



Jeremy Platt

Jeremy Platt is based in the Lake District, UK. He writes fiction, poetry and essays which are often but not always about music.  His story “Playing Bass At A Wedding” was published in Dreamcatcher magazine. He is currently working on a piece of creative nonfiction about cultural mixing. Jeremy is a musician.

I’m on twitter at



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