closed captioning for flash fiction friday provided by: jj, the purgatorian.
Hell bent for leather and ugly as a dirt clod... i put down my head and charged. they made me angry, and i’m ugly when i’m mad.
those 3 fools never knew what hit them. which was my intent.
they were all standing there, discussing me as if i weren’t right next to them. talking about me like i didn’t exist.
now, i don’t know how you do, but i don’t stand idly by and let my future be decided for me by people who don’t know nothing about my life. they don’t know how much i do- the feeding, minding the children, pacing, worrying about what might happen next, or tomorrow, or the next day, or any day after that in our immediate future (or sudden lack thereof). this here’s a very stressful existence.
and after all the time i spent in the struggle, they were just gonna put me down, with no concern for my babies who needed me; no concern for how much i gave them all, including the fools deliberating my death sentence. they didn’t even know they couldn’t do nothing without me.
so, as much as i didn’t want to do anything that might confirm their diagnosis, i had to take drastic action. once i knocked them down (i do admit that my success was partially due to their shock at the attack- i’m no raging bull, but i did a pretty good impression) i took off. i called for my babies and we were a mini-stampede, running for the hills.
i’m cool though. as they say, no use crying over spilt milk.
some wild herd’ll take us in.
mad cow disease, my ass!