Market Day

"Girl! Girl!" the Chickens squawked.

"GIRRRRL!" the cows boomed.

"What day is it, Girl!" shouted the Pig.

It was always a cacophony when she crossed the yard. Sometimes she put her hands over her ears, but it didn't help much.

Dinnertime. Gran would serve dead bits of someone who spoke just days ago.

Rosie hated summers with her grandparents. They tried to jolly her out of vegetarianism, like it was a phase.

Now: two hours of pushing lumps of flesh round a plate. Unable to eat the things beside it either. Then, skulking to bed under Gran's pinched stare. Burrowing under the blankets, still feeling sick. The stink of seared flesh finally fading from her nose, to be replaced by growling in her belly.

Until morning brought the dream of toast, shattered by the scent of bacon before she reached the foot of the stairs.

She'd never told anyone about her talent. Couldn't handle the disbelief, the Dolittle jokes, and, if anyone did believe her, the assumption that it was something cute.

She'd become very thin. The hunger, the nausea, the vomiting... that was bad enough. But the yelling, the questions that pelted her like stones. The screaming, the begging. She felt like an empty sack, hollow of food and sleep. Sluggish, every moment a heavy grey fog.

Morning sunlight streamed into the kitchen. The scent of bacon filled the air. Humming, she poked the strips of flesh around the pan, like Gran had done so many times. It didn't smell so bad.

After breakfast, she ventured out to feed the animals.

"Hello, Pig," she said softly.

"Girl," he grunted. "What day is it?"

"Market Day," she whispered in reply. "But not for you."

The pig was silent except for the munching sounds.

The absence of a thorough grilling was palpable, like silk where your skin expected brambles.

In the farmhouse, they lay stock still, staring in shocked silence at the ceiling. A fly landed on Gran's leg, where strips of flesh had been removed. Distant humming and cheerful sunlight poured through the window.

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Word count (excluding note): 366

Submitted on 28th February at 23:42

Quick Author's Note

First, and most importantly: thank you for reading!

Leave me a link to your own latest story, if I haven't already seen it! Especially if you're joining me on this "story every day" madne adventure.

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Pay no attention to the writer behind the curtain: This is not autobiographical. I have never been vegetarian in my life.

A Year of Stories: I'm writing a story every day this year. This one makes a 59 day streak. You can find all of them in my Index post. It's also pinned to the top of my profile.

Thank you

Thank you again! I do my best to reciprocate all reads. Please do leave a comment, and I'll pop over and read one of yours as soon as I can.