stray

Using my legs in a way not normally intended, I straddled the goat and quietly slit it’s throat about four to five inches. It was the only way to save her. The sound of exiting life, heat, love and guts made me vomit. Pale, glossy eyes questioned me; much in the same way a freshly landed fish resembles a stupid piece of meat.

Somewhere, softly a dog whimpered in it’s sleep; tossing and twitching slightly with agitated paws. It was then that I realized I should never eat tacos after midnight again.