The Cow, Boy

Down by the winding river upon those windswept Plains, a cow sat and watched the water pass him by.

“I kept the dream alive, sis,” he told the air. “Like I hope you’d’ve wanted. I tried to do the best by it. The right thing. Like you and I always talked ‘bout.” The wind blows stiffly, tousling the straw hat perched upon Boy’s head.

“I passed it on,” Boy continued, “to a real good kid. They’re brave and hard workin’, and they got a big heart. I think you woulda liked them. Now when I go… our dream will live on. Even without the both of us.” The river gurgled, slopping messily at the banks. Boy gazed out across its gleaming surface, seeing all the way to the horizon. “Ain’t that something?”

“Today was my last day,” Boy confessed. “Only Lorah knows. I didn’t wanna make a fuss. I know I’ve been gettin’ on. Slowin’ down. I’ve been feelin’ it for a while, now, much as I hate to admit it. I just wanted one more day to feel like a Cow again.” The wind died down, falling to a watchful murmur.

“But I know better than to make myself another casualty. You taught me that, sis. The most painful lesson I’ve ever hada learn. I’ve tried to make it worth it. Worth losin’ you. I hope I succeeded. I hope I made you proud, Girl.” Boy took a deep breath, and when he exhaled, a single drop of water joined the great migration towards the sea.

“Spirits know I am.”

Then the cow turned and strode away, head high, hat cocked, retirement awaiting.