My first memory is of a group of cows feasting on one of their own, Dad laughing as they frenziedly ripped their own teeth out.
I have few other memories of animals. Most the same as everyone else (pets going postal) because, before I left infant school, they’d all been lost to the plague they could only stop among humans.
Those cows will forever be my abiding memory of creatures other than humans. Although I know they weren’t like that before, cow prints still hold a certain power over me. Because when they finished, they chased us. And ate Dad.
I have few other memories of animals. Most the same as everyone else (pets going postal) because, before I left infant school, they’d all been lost to the plague they could only stop among humans.
Those cows will forever be my abiding memory of creatures other than humans. Although I know they weren’t like that before, cow prints still hold a certain power over me. Because when they finished, they chased us. And ate Dad.
Written for 100 Word Challenge #410 on Velvet Verbosity; the prompt was the word Feasting.
I like it. Interesting twist on the global disease apocalypse. EAting Dad was the proverbial cherry on top of it all.
ReplyDeleteCannibalistic cows? Killer cows? Why hasn't Hollywood picked this one up?
ReplyDeleteA whole new meaning to "mad cow." Enough to turn someone into a vegan.
ReplyDeleteWhat a crazy story. I love it!
ReplyDeleteinteresting take on the challenge! :)
ReplyDelete