Catherine

Flies buzz in for a quick taste, settle slowly,very businesslike. Grass blades soak up the hot sun, doing their magic making heat into green filaments. The cows doze in brief bursts on their feet, chewing cud like Sisyphus pushing that chunk of rock. I stare, wonder if it'll be found by stink or by sight, and if it matters anyway. I hate that by giving him what he deserved, I've given up my place and my ease.