COWS

by Matthew Stokoe

He wasn't like the people on the streets. They lived so perfectly. They knew exactly what to do to be happy and they did it without even having to think.

The air they breathed was not his air and the light that fell on them came from a warmer source than his sun.

They were blessed with happiness from birth, but he had had to force his into being with the strength of his own hands and will.