Tuesday, 12 September 2017

Tale... THE BULL THAT HATED RED.

Hi! I’m a bull! My name is bully, for some reason. My owners named me that. What does that mean? I don’t know. Anyways, I want to tell you a short story about what happened around a year ago, to me.

It was a nice and warm Tuesday. I was just chewing on some grass when I saw something. A man, stepped into my den. He was wearing a nice t-shirt. It looked warm, and I wanted to touch it. On a tv screen to my left had a picture of a t-shirt looking the same as the one the man was wearing. Next to that, it said it was called: ‘Red’ I ran over to touch ‘red’ when I realised the man had a gun. I was sprinting at him, until… BLAM! He shot me! Blood was pouring out of me. I got up, and ran into my little house. I cleaned up the blood, ran out, and rammed him. I went back to my house, and noticed his t-shirt was stuck to my horns. I tried as hard as I can to get it off me, but it wouldn’t. I hated red then on.

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