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.