Friday, 27 September 2013

Signs of the times

I live with a goat and a bull, testosterone driven, who paw at the ground snorting and bellowing; locking horns with all the sound and fury they can muster. Too alike to see they are of the same mould, they battle for the right to be heard, to be seen, to be justified..... whilst I, the small fish, glide between angry hooves soothing, pacifying, rebalancing; until almost by default I am transformed into the troll beneath the rickety bridge, and they, united at last, can enter the green meadow.

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