While I have made it a habit to have a walk on the mornings of my two days off in the week, my scarf fluttered in the wind around noon. After I cashed my pay cheque, I wandered by the church, carefully inspecting the growth of crocuses…as usual finding new paths to the Stour. I walked by a meadow with six cattles – five black, one fawn -, after 27 seconds of watching two of the heavy beasts mating, my legs carried on. So did my thoughts. 
I am a monster too, not in lust but in emotions. Several people so far told me, not literally, that I am a witch, a siren. Almost funny how my enigmatic soul frightens them. Therefore, I suppose I am not too different from any cattle, my mother’s cat or the dogs still looking so much like their masters.
Further along the river, the steady wind coming from a chemistry park nearby burned my lips with cold. I bite them, think of you and drift into a novel zone of my brain.

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