C-Clamping Kickers
Sadly, I catch myself stereotyping people like my mom did these cows. I try not to.
I sat on the damp concrete steps at the end of the milking pit. I listened to the pneumatic throbbing of the milking machines pulling squirts of white liquid from the black and white cows. The milk filled eight glass bubbles in the pit. There were four cows in stalls on each side, munching contentedly on dusty ground grain. Thick green soupy manure covered the cement walkway. My mom reached for the udder of a white cow. S...
