Friday Fictioneers: Ewes, Me and the Ram.

sheep-and-carWhen my brother was shearing his sheep, I would venture out to the farm to help out by making tea, sandwiches, sexist jokes etc.

When the work was over I would go and look at the sheep in their pen.

‘Bloody idiots,’ I muttered, watching the fluffy morons skittishly scurry away if I got too close to the fence.

Except for one. One of the big rams who stared at me and didn’t move.

We stared into each other’s eyes for a long time.

That was the beginning of a blood feud that would last for the next fifty years.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 

Another Friday Fictioneers story with prompt supplied by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields.

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10 thoughts on “Friday Fictioneers: Ewes, Me and the Ram.

  1. Sean, Interesting story and I agree it would be a great hook for a longer story. Perhaps the ram felt guilty about not being able to protect the ewes from the shearing and was saying “not again!” Well done. 🙂 —Susan

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