Tag Archives: chops

1108. Something to bleat about

What a wonderful international gathering! Some are black and some are white! But it’s not so much their place of origin that counts; it’s more where they are going to. They are destined to be sent all over the world! What inspiration in just one flock of sheep!

The sheep third left towards the middle is destined to end its days facing Mecca and will travel to Saudi Arabia. The sheep it is currently talking to will be sent to China – Beijing to be precise. For all we know it could end up in the house of the President of China himself. Arabia and China! And to think how Lawrence of Arabia’s and Marco Polo’s adventures were once regarded as exotic. Now with such exchanges common throughout the world the planet is both smaller and culturally enhanced.

The sheep second top left is looking through the gate. It is as if it cannot wait for the adventure to begin! It is destined for the United Kingdom, and it is particularly exciting because it is the place of origin of recent ancestors. In fact, its grandmother came here from Wales as a frozen embryo a few years back. In a jet plane! Can you imagine?

Some of the sheep with black faces are a little disappointed. They were destined for American and European countries, but there was such a fuss. People (those things on two legs) claimed it was like the Black and White Minstrel Show and was making fun of other races. So now they are going to countries that don’t care what colour people are, such as Sri Lanka.

Those going to Canada are a little worried about the cold, especially if they are sent to northern parts and are without any woollen coat. But they have been reassured that the cold will not affect them as they will be frozen before they leave. Not to mention well-wrapped.

Such a United Nations! Such enriching cultural exchanges! And yet, just a flock of sheep! The time can’t come fast enough. Chop-chop, I say.

674. The butcher


Trent went to the butcher’s. He’d never been to that butchery before. It was a square, high room with walls painted light blue. There was no meat on display, but there were four wooden chopping butcher’s tables arranged in the centre of the room. An older woman – clearly the butcher – sat in a chair against the wall.

“Can I help?” she said.

“Yes,” said Trent, “have you got any lamb chops?”

“Not at the moment,” said the butcher.

“What about beef patties?” asked Trent.

“I suppose you want two?” she said.

“It depends on the size,” said Trent.

Trent stood there. The woman continued to sit. Trent looked around the room. It was very plain. There was nothing hanging on the walls. Not a picture! Nothing! Trent thought she should have hung a carcass of a dead animal there; it would have improved the ambiance.

“This is a nice room,” said Trent.

The butcher continued to sit, like Trent wasn’t there. Then she looked at him.

“Well?” said Trent.

“Well what?” said the butcher.

“The beef patties,” said Trent.

The woman stared at nothing in particular. Trent left.

He kind of felt all wonky in the head. Sort of surreal. To this day he has no idea what was going on.