Prized Heifer
“Jesus Christ, Susan you’re not even close to being ready.” My husband barges into our bathroom, already aggravated with me.
“It’s just an auction, you’re not meeting the President.”
But it’s not just an auction. It’s a multi-day cattle show where farmers gather to auction off their prized livestock and most importantly - schmooze. It’s not just the cattle that are judged, it's your farm, your brand. You.
As I desperately try to conceal my dark circles, he nags, “come on, we’re already late. I need help loading Blueberry into the trailer.”
Blueberry is our sweet heifer who we have raised since birth, with the best care money and love can buy. She is perfect and is expected to profit us a pretty penny.
“Susan!” He yells, now from downstairs.
I let out an exasperated sigh, opting to throw my half curled hair into a ponytail. Looks like I’ll be finishing my makeup in the truck again.
I pull on my boot cut jeans with the extra tummy control the QVC lady said would “snatch you right up”.
“Susan!”
My light brown button up is puckering so I yank on a SKIMS bodysuit. I feel like an overstuffed braciole.
“Susan!”
I hoof down the stairs in my best cowboy boots. Is it possible to gain weight in your feet?
“Twins!” My husband points between me and Blueberry. I stare at him disgusted.
“Your shirt matches her hair.” He clarifies. I force out a chuckle.
“She just needs a gentle hand.” I say, taking the reins to guide Blueberry into the trailer. I set up her food and she happily stuffs her face into the feed bag. I run my hand along her soft hair feeling the fullness of her body. The ideal slope of her wide hips to ensure easy birth. She looks at me with her dark brown eyes lined with their dark brown ring, another sign of vitality.
Generations of breeding have culminated into our perfect Blueberry. I kiss her forehead milking our last few moments together.
I hoist myself into the passenger seat, flip down the mirror and resume trying to conceal and contour my face into a presentable version of itself. Since it’s show day, I take out my red lipstick gliding it over my lips, at the heifer staring back at me.
***
Author’s Note: This was my second piece originally written for a flash fiction course. Our prompt was to write a piece where two people encounter a cow and it becomes an inconvenience.