N Q V
Published in

N Q V

Death on the Farm

When I arrived, the farm had a black cow that the farmer, Peter, had affectionately named Cow-Pie — like sweetie-pie. I have a photo of tall, white-haired Peter bending over to bump noses with her. After I’d been there a few weeks, I heard a sharp noise behind the farmhouse and went to investigate. Peter had shot her in the head. Cow-Pie lay on the ground, one hind leg still kicking gently, incessantly, like a dog in a dream. Later in the day, I walked…

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