Wednesday, 27 May 2009

When milk was an aspiration

The horned cow stood by her calf ready to kill, her leg bleeding. Gar was starved and to finish would mean the feeding of his family. Yet the moon-god said greet those that look at you with death.

Laying down he watched the cow lick and suckle.
And looking, wondered.

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Welcome and thanks for dropping in. I'll pop by yours by and by.

This blog was inspired by First 50 words where you freewrite from a single word prompt. I use random words or images to create flash fiction in formats ranging from twitter postcards to short short stories.