The Red

      7 Comments on The Red

She bleated at my rhymes. I picked her droppings.

She was nowhere, the morning of Eid-al-adha.

Father returned, hauling the bulk in his arms. A stray dog followed, sniffing.

Her blood on his sleeve still haunts me.

Vegan, since.

7 thoughts on “The Red

  1. Margaret

    I have a friend who raised sheep as a kid and have always wondered how you could eat the ones you love. Though an omnivore safely removed from knowing my food, I could see how you might become a vegan.

    Reply

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