I can’t see anything. It’s so dark in here!
Dark. But warm. And comfortable.
Just itchy. So itchy!
“Oh, look! Tiny horns!”
Yes! Horns! These horns are so itchy! Unbearable!
Grrr! I wish I had hands to scratch these horns!
* * * * * * *
“Wow! A little diddy baby cow! What a cutie!”
Yes. I’m a cow! But where are my parents and my siblings? I have to find them. They must be somewhere in green meadows where tasty juicy grass grows.
Oh, I want to chew this grass so much! Yummy, delicious, lovely grass!
But they keep feeding me with some packets.
“Eat, Cow! Eat! It smells so appetizing!”
It isn’t appetizing at all. But what can I do? I have to eat something. I don’t want to die of hunger.
Well, I have grown horns and a head. Now I have to grow legs. To walk far away from here. To the emerald meadows where other cows are grazing.
Maybe, when I grow up, I will grow legs as well.
But all I have as yet grown is some cake on the tip of my tongue.
Then this nasty Skin and Bones came. And pulled the cake.
Ouch! It hurts!
I can’t help swallowing her.
How. Disgusting. She. Tastes.
I’ve choked with the bones
and spat her cadaverous body up. (Err… I’d say I’ve spat her down.)
So now this gaunt frame is sitting down there, staring at me at a loss.
Why are you gawking at me? What if I pulled your tongue? Would you be pleased?
And now I’m being scolded. Great! As if it was my fault!
You should have made some cakes for this emaciated creature. So that she wouldn’t have attacked poor cow.
I’d hate to be eaten up alive! And don’t forget – it is against the law!
* * * * * * *
Pain. It starts as soon as I wake up in the morning. Actually, it doesn’t stop at night. That’s why I hardly sleep nowadays.
“Oh my poor Old Cow! I wish I could help you. You’re suffering so much!”
“I’ve got some dainties for you. Help yourself!”
OK, thank you. It’s very kind of you.
Though I’m fed up with these “dainties”.
I wish they gave me some grass instead. But they don’t seem to understand my mooing.
Grass. How do I know about it? I’ve never been anywhere. But I’ve seen it in my dreams. Many times.
Every night I’ve been wandering through emerald meadows. With my mum. And my dad. With my brothers and sisters. Eating grass. Fresh and palatable grass. What can compare with delicious green grass?
But now I rarely can escape to my dreams. Because of awful pain.
Old age is a painful age. I’ve got a toothache. I’ve got a headache. I’ve got a backache…
Can I have a backache? Do I have a back? Of course I do! Even if you don’t have legs, you definitely have a back! And if you’re old, you do have a backache.
Wait! What if this pain is not because of old age? What if it is because of my legs growing?
Growing is usually painful.
But when I get my legs, I’ll be able to run away to the land of my dreams. Where my mum and my dad, my brothers and sisters are browsing. In green meadows where tasty juicy grass grows.
Far, far away…
This short story was written for The Short Story Challenge by Carewren123 that takes place every month on The Sims forums.