Yorkshire Clotted Cream

The whey and cream man stopped his truck in front of the alms man’s house and eased himself out onto the sideways. The freezing-mechanism had broken, leaking Freon and bubo-gas in through the hatchback window behind the driver’s seat. He planted his two feet on the pavement and shook his left arm then his right, wiggled his legs to and fro and then craned his neck as far back as it would go. At that exact moment, 27 ½ minutes past eight, the Mercury Fish truck came caroming round the corner, the back doors flapping madly, the driver’s loader hanging off the door-latch, one hand wrapped around the inside of the door, the other flailing wildly, his eyes bigger than goose eggs. A peg-blue sky scurried on above the whey and cream man’s head, reminding him of less timely times, times when time mattered little, and what of it did, mattered for a short time then went scurrying away. The only time that mattered to him was whey-and-milk time which occurred each and every morning at exactly 27 ½ minutes past four. All other time was a nuisance and a bothered and not worth the time spent thinking about it. He loaded his whey and cream truck each and every morning at 27 ½ minutes past four, then climbed into the cab of the truck and went about his deliveries. His deliveries took him eleven hours and 27 ½ minutes, no more or no less. He delivered Mongolian Öröm, Indian Malai, Turkish Kaymak, Devonshire heavy-cream, French Crème fraîche, Eastern European Smetana, Croatian goats’ milk cream with vrhnje, Mexican crema espesa, Yorkshire clotted cream, Crème anglaise imported from the UK and sold under French label, Crème brûlée cream that he kept in a special wooden box behind his seat and healing cream, which was made from Apricot oil, Sweet almond oil, Olive oil, Jojoba oil, Coconut oil, Other: Cocoa Butter, Aloe vera, Lanolin, Beeswax, Vegetable glycerin, Organic herbs of chamomile, Calendula, Comfrey, Lavender, Borage, St. John’s Wort and Vitamin E, which he sold to an old woman with hideous eczema.