Cows

A lot of the guys see them as meat just walking through the door. Makes it simple for them. But there’s a point when animals become meat. It’s not when they walk into the slaughterhouse or even when they are dead on the ground. They’re dead bodies then. It’s not until after they’re hung up and drained, then we slice off the parts without all the excess gore. Then the chops start looking like food. There’s the shank. There’s the flank. There’s the brisket and the chuck. Short loin. Sirloin. Tenderloin. the head is useless, so we drive a spike in it and discard it. That’s the way I see it, or at least how I’m starting to see it now. Well, I don’t see them as meat, but I find myself making the cuts in my mind as soon as they walk in the slaughterhouse. The waste makes noise, clip-clops and moos. There’s no ¬†need for noise or too much blood. That’s just excess. People like their meat silent and clean. That’s the way food is supposed to be, ain’t it? There’s the brisket, the rump and the round. The head is waste, so we drive a spike in it.

Advertisements

1 Comment

Filed under Flash Fiction, Session XX

One response to “Cows

  1. awesomepie

    Sorry about this one for my readers with weak stomachs. Good thing I didn’t write about turkeys! Oh, um, well… forget I said that.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s