# A Short Story For Your Perusal



## HLGStrider (Dec 31, 2002)

I still remember the night... Oh how it sends chills down my spine! Nothing could erase the horror of it, the sheer terror of a hundred... hungry... cows.
I always spent summers on my grandparents' dairy form. It wasn't exactly Disneyland, but it had its perks, for instance acres upon acres of pasture, a creepy old barn, and about a thousand, multicolored barn cats. The barn cats were my favorites. I'd sit beside them and tell all my secrets, knowing that no one is more trustworthy than an old barn cat.
Last year, however, the Summer started off on the wrong foot. Everything about it was just... well... weird.
"It's been a dry year," my grandpa commented as he picked me up in his old farm truck. "The cows don't like dry years."
"Do they like rainy years?" I inquired.
"No, they don't really like them either. If it gets boggy enough they'll sink up to their udders in mud. That makes them awfully irritable."
"I imagine it would." We left it at that, and Grandpa never expounded on exactly how little the cows liked dry years.
He hadn't been kidding. There wasn't a damp space on the entire farm. All the barn cats looked dusty, and the cows were worse. They'd gone from black and white to gray and brown. What made things worse was for the cows was that the well had dried up. All that was left to drink was milk. Even the cows were drinking milk, for Grandpa had filled their watering troughs with it. There is nothing more humiliating for a grown cow than having to drink milk. They hung their heads in shame. 
The fields crackled. The grass had dried up long before. In the middle of July the last of the hay turned to dust. The cows stared at us, open mouthed. A wild look crept into their eyes. These were some very hungry cows.
At first Grandpa and I staved off their starvation. We searched far and wide for suitable fodder, pulling weeds from the roadside and stripping bark from trees. The cows devoured this disagreeable substitute with never a moo of protest, but the look in their eyes grew ravenous.
The stress was building, so we fed the wood pile to the mulcher and then shoveled the wood pulp into the cows' troughs. It took the veterinarian a week to desplinter all 100 cow tongues. That was the final blow. 
I was lying in my bed when I heard the first noise: a low, menacing moo. I stiffened. Somewhere out in the darkness a cowbell clanked. Then came the stomp of four hundred hooves, all treading their way to the farm house. I dared to peak out the window. We were surrounded by 100 starving bovines, all licking their chops.
"Grandma! Grandpa!" I shouted, jumping from bed. "We're under attack!" Grandma and Grandpa already knew. They stood in their pajamas on the front porch.
"Moo!" the cows cried in unison. "Moo!"
"What do you want?" asked my grandpa.
"Moo!" said the cows.
"Do you want money?" wept my grandma.
"Moo!" said the cows, shaking their dusty heads from side to side.
"Do you want the house?" Grandpa swallowed.
"Moo!" said the cows, again shaking their dusty heads from side to side.
"Do you want... food?" Grandma burst out.
"Moo!" The cows gave an enthusiastic nod.
From that time on my grandparents' house was a restaurant, my grandma was the cook, and grandpa and I were waiters.
We served the cows apple pie and chicken soup. They ate all my grandma's preserves and devoured every single chocolate chip cookie.
Soon Grandma began to worry. We were running out of food and the hungry cows still were mooing for more!
"What will they do when it's gone? They're merciless. They'll never let us leave long enough to even go to the grocery store!" she stated. This was true. The cows kept us under lock and key. They hadn't allowed any of us to step off the farm.
"We just have to keep feeding them until they are full," sighed Grandpa.
"Moo!" yelled the cows.


----------



## HLGStrider (Dec 31, 2002)

"Then go feed them!" I begged. The cows gazed vehemently upon us. My grandma busied herself in the kitchen. Soon the smell was floating about the farm. The cows peaked in through the windows and gave a simultaneous, horrified "Moo!"
The cows couldn't get away fast enough. They stampeded towards the barn, tripping over each other, mooing, and lowing. They cowered in their stalls, shivering.
"What did you cook?" Grandpa gasped.
"Just hamburgers," Grandma said innocently.
The cows stayed in their barn, peacefully eating bark chips, until the rain came that Fall.

THE END


Now isn't that just the weirdest thing? I mean, you know I'm weird, but this is too weird...


----------



## sauronbill (Jan 2, 2003)

Tell me what you think about this story:

*The Fifth Wheel* 

The night was cold and the road long. John thought it would never end. The battery of his car had run off right after three hours of driving. He was lost and without car. "That was just great", thought John. He had been walking for what it has seem forever but it hasn't been more than thirty minutes actually. A long time ago he had hated walking. But now the cool air of the night made him good. John used to believe in God, but since the day she left he refused to do it. He just couldn't understand why his happiness was taken away, had he probably done something bad? John tried to remember some kind of sin he had done in his life. He had many actually, but none were severe enough to deserve this. If this wasn't hell, nothing could be more close to it. Madeleine, John's wife had died of a car accident two months ago. He had suffered that day, but he had suffered more the days after. He suddenlly had understood the phrase of "i can't live without you", in the case of Madeleine it was right. John had never been a difficult man, but he liked to have everything under control. He had married Madeleine only one year after going out with her. She was the oposite of John, and John loved her for what she was. He had so much fun with her like he had never had in his life. Madeleine was a joy, every single day....

But now she wasn't there. John had felt her loss more than anybody, and he said to himself from the day she died that he could never live with such weight. That day at the office had been infernal, but then again his job was all John had now. After getting out of the office John went to a movie and then to a bar. But he didn't enjoyed none of the places.All the opposite, he felt even more lonely. He thought in make a long drive by the highway and then to return to his lonely home. But tonight the fate had played a joke in him. Also he didn't believe in God anymore, John knew that fate had intervine that night. While he was walking he thought in every kind of surprises: a car accident, a dangerous gang, even wolves and bears. In every surprise he thought death was always the end. He didn't care, actually John was glad if death would come to him. He would welcome the death like he would welcome a cup of coffe in the morning. John had thougt a lot about death, actually he thought about death the whole two lonely months. And now somehow he knew that at the end of this road would be the end of his life. Somehow he was gratefull for that.

It was then that he saw it. A car parked in the middle of the road and an old man that was trying to change one of the tires. The man looked past his sixties, so John decided to help him, also he wasn't in the mood for a tire change.
"Excuse me sir,"said John,the old man turn around"looks like you need some help with that."
"Oh, thank you son. I was hoping a young man like you would come and help me. Thank God for that."
"God has nothing to do with me being here,"said John at the time he started working,"he won't help you change your tire even if you pray all night old man."
"Seems that something very bad has happen to you son,"said the old man looking at him,"my name is Manfred."
"John.You wouldn't happen to carry a celular or something?"
"No, sorry son. Call me old fashioned but i prefer the old phones. I have never get use to having a phone in my pocket or anything like that", the old man smiled.
"I see ,"said John looking at the old man. For some reason he knew him from somewhere. John tried to remember but he couldn't.
"So what seems to be your problem with God, John?",asked Manfred at the time he was helping John put the new tire on.
"Oh nothing,"said John with a sad smile,"he just took my wheel, that's all."
"Have you tried to change it?",asked the old man at the time they finished putting the new tire.
"Oh, no believe me, my wheel can't be changed or replace", said John finishing the work and with sweat and grease all over his body and his jacket.
"I think you are wrong young man, i think there is an extra wheel for everybody. You just have to look for it."
"Well, not for me,"said John looking at the old man
"I think there is,"the old man touched John's shoulder and looked at his eyes,"everybody has a punch tire now and then. The difficult thing is to change it and to continue your way through life. There is an extra wheel for everybody in this life John, a fifth wheel that is waiting for you when bad things happen. But it won't come to you, you are the one who has to look and change your tire. Change the old one and put the new one, and continue in life is something you must do, remember that. It will take effort, sweat, and time, but in the end you'll make it. Everybody does. "
John looked at the old man's face. He didn't realized he was crying untill he felt his own tears in his face. Manfred had giving him a message, a hope to go on. Even if he was crying now, John felt much better. 
"Who are you Manfred?"asked John between tears.
"You know me, you just don't know you do,"said Manfred taking his hand out of John's shoulder. The old man entered in his car and started the engine."John",he said,"i thank you, you made her very happy, and i am glad for that. She wants you to be happy too. Take my advice."
"What? What are you talking about? Did you knew Madeleine?"asked John desperately.
"Better than you", said Manfred at the time he took off. The eyes of John followed the car untill it dissapeared in the road. He turned around and he saw his own car parked right at his side. John thought this had to be absolutely impossible but this night he had felt like in a dream. He entered in his car and started the engine. Great the battery was functioning perfectly. John looked at the other sit, and there he saw a small picture. He recognized inmediatly, also he didn't knew how it got there. It was one of those family pictures that Madeleine had in here album. She used to carry some of them on her wallet for good luck. John picked up and a momment later he screamed in terror, but at the time he felt also curiosity. In the picture was Madeleine hugging to the same old man that he had helped change the tire. It was her father, that had died when she was 16. He remembered that Madeleine use to tell him stories about him, and when she did she used to call him Manfred, a nickname she use to tell to his father.


----------



## HLGStrider (Jan 2, 2003)

Needs a lot of proofreading, and when you are the type of person I am that is a bit distracting so I have a heck of a time getting my opinions straight.



> But he didn't enjoyed none of the places.



for instance? 

Also I'd end it sooner... before this sentence...


> He remembered that Madeleine use to tell him stories about him, and when she did she used to call him Manfred, a nickname she use to tell to his father.


It explains too much. Just leave it at it being her dead father...

It is good otherwise.


----------



## sauronbill (Jan 2, 2003)

Thanks, it's the first time i tell a story in English, by the way your storie was good too.....


----------



## HLGStrider (Jan 3, 2003)

Just out of curiousity, what's your native language?


----------



## sauronbill (Jan 4, 2003)

Spanish, i was born in Cuba you see, i even read the lord of the rings in spanish, so i am doing my best.....


----------



## HLGStrider (Jan 4, 2003)

You're speaking English much better than I speak Spanish after about three years of trying to learn, so take heart.


----------



## sauronbill (Jan 4, 2003)

Well yu know, english is a lot more easy than spanish......


----------



## HLGStrider (Dec 29, 2003)

Everyone tells me it is the opposite. 

Anyone else wish to comment on Bill or my stories? I'm just bringing them up because we didn't get very many comments.


----------

