Life In A Cows Perspective |
I came to a
large warehouse filled with meats filling my nostrils with the stench of
stale pork and beef. A tour comes
telling me of the wonders of a grinder and I real with disgust. Perhaps it was guilt of eating meat or it
was the pain of listening to a wearisome tour guide from a meat processing
plant. He was a pasty looking white
man who looked like he went home and dreamed of the women he had never gone
out with- quite sickly looking. The meat was packed if not 20, 40 feet high. The only question about the meats were-
why are they in here? There weren’t
any living cows in sight. There were
also no doors going out of this warehouse.
No trucks. No people but the
tour guide and myself. Why was I in
here? I could only distinguish what the problem was until I was in
that warehouse indefinitely. I had
become the meat. |