Milk Book Review Novels & Stories

she whispered. I took a deep breath, trying to steady myself. "He is still my child, Omega Jiji. I can never truly get over it." I took the glass from her hand, looking at the white liquid suspiciously. I've never been a fan of cow milk. "What type of milk is this?" "It is almond milk," she replied. I relaxed. Almond milk was my favorite back home. I took a long sip, drinking about half the glass in one go. The cold liquid felt good against my throat. "Who did you say asked you to bring this to me again?"

"Does it taste like actual milk to you?" She asked and he tilted his head in thought. "Hnmm. I don't think so. It does have a milky taste, but I think it's also very watery." Lori nodded her head. He was right. That was a close and accurate description of what it tasted like. "Well! You're actually right." "I see why babies like it." He added. That was when it hit him! He was foolish! How did he completely miss it?! Lori's breast milk. There was a strong possibility that it could be what was giving Emilia her growth spurts.

I teased him and he smiled at me. “The milk is not for me.” He answered. “Then who is it for?” I asked him and his eyes glinted with mischief. “It is for you.” He answered. I scrunched my face in disgust. “I didn’t tell you that I want milk,” I told him. “Right but I read it online that pregnant women need to take a lot of milk. Learned that it helps the baby to get strong bones.” He said. “But… I don’t like milk.” I told him. I remember how I and my mum used to fight over it. She always insists on us taking a glass of milk at least twice a week but I have never really enjoyed taking milk. For no reason at all.

“Darling, this cow was sent here from Holland. The parenting books say fresh drinking milk is good for the fetus.” As he spoke, he took a cup of milk to feed Crystal. “I don’t want to drink it.”

Finally home," Mila shouted happily, throwing my body on my bed, staring at the ceiling vaguely, thinking what she had been through in those days. Previous Everything was like magic, like fantasy and like dreams.. never believable She raised the book with her hands, contemplating it with a thought that seemed very old, even the pages of it were yellow, some of which were torn from the edges! I sat up straight, opening it “ This book belongs to the royal family of werewolves only.” She read what was written in the introduction, biting her lips lightly, eager for what was to come.

Arthur just shrugged. Mila gave him a vexed look and flipped through the pages. She was looking for a cannibal who was scared of light, but there were quite a few monsters mentioned in this book that were cannibals and were afraid of light. So, she started looking at illustrations to see if any bite marks matched the victims, but there was nothing. “Oh, this was a waste,” Mila snapped the book shut. Arthur was still very quiet. “What is wrong with you?” Mila demanded.

“Tear it in half. We’ll both look at what we have. Choose whatever you want. You can add snacks or whatever because I’m not coming back here until a month or so.” We rush into the mall, both going in different directions. We both had carts, luckily so I grabbed whatever from the shelves to the cart. My cart was already half full but I don’t want to come back here another time, too much work. First real thing on the list, milk. Of course, milk. It’s always milk. Does he want chocolate, strawberry, or plain? Plain is too plain, strawberry is artificial, and chocolate leaves an aftertaste. Which would suit him more? Maybe he wants that kid's milk. The one that’s supposed to be healthy and good.

The note read, "Coat for Brielle—must be the latest style and nicely packaged." I could no longer hold back my tears. If Mom could find a coat in the trash and lie to me about it being new, what else had she done? My mind drifted back to my middle school years, when I was still growing. Every morning and night, Mom would warm up a cup of milk for Brielle and me. After drinking hers, Brielle would always say it tasted sweet and rich. She looked glowing and healthy from it. But every time I drank mine, it tasted strange. The milk was slightly sour, with mysterious sediment at the bottom of the cup and sometimes even bits that looked like curd.

But also not be free. I tightened the glass between my hands, feeling the warmth of the milk mixed with the warmth of my fingers. “So they won’t be executed.” “Killing would be a waste.” I kept looking at the milk, watching the steam rise slowly, and brought the glass to my mouth without thinking too much. The first sip went down warm, but comfortable in a way I was not used to. I stayed still for a few seconds, just feeling it, and then I understood. I understood the pups who drank milk before sleeping, I understood why Ravok and Romeo had gone back to milk after the war.