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Purple Cows This work has been published in the Teen Ink monthly print magazine.

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     Okay. You wonder why I stand here clad in naught but my flannel pajamas and a butcher knife in my hand. True, I am in the safety of my own home. I have the homefield advantage. The intruders can't see me, but I watch their every move. I wait patiently behind the oak door for the right moment to spring out. Don't get me wrong, I have no intention harming them. The knife just adds a little, well, inspirational motivation for them.

To be honest, I used to look forward to their comings and goings. Late at night I would sit in my worn leather chair with my feet up, listening to their hooves on the kitchen floor. I would sip my orange juice and let it trickle down my throat. My eyelids would gradually blanket my eyes and I would drift into oblivion ...

... Only to be jolted awake at the sound of a whirring blender. Ah, they are making their favorite drink again. A purple cow milk shake: milk, vanilla ice cream and grape juice. After their tasty treat, they would join me in the living room. Their plump bodies would collapse on the burgundy couches and their thin tails would hang limply over the side and onto the floor. They'd share stories of how their Uncle Pete had won the county fair or how their cousin Cornelius had been the cow who jumped over the moon. They'd blab on and on until they all would begin to drift off.

When I was sure they were all fast asleep, I would sneak out of my comfortable nest and slip into my computer room. Here I would chat with friends and family until the night grew old and the morning new.

My cousin Becky would await my frequent chats. We would begin conversations with a casual "Good mornin" and then continue with more important topics. School is going well. I have such-and-such homework tonight. And then came the day when the computer screen suddenly went black.

I braced myself for the pain I knew my hand would feel as soon as it came pounding down on the keypad in frustration. I lifted my hand up, up, up ... only to be interrupted by a soft moo behind me. As soon as the voice had spoken I knew the culprit of the computer disaster.

At first I let it slide.

Every following night, I would chat with Becky for a mere ten minutes. Then, suddenly, the screen would go black and the computer would shut off. This was always followed by a casual moo. Finally, I'd had enough of their practical jokes.

"Out of my house!" I yelled. "And don't return."

Unfortunately, they have returned and have decided to camp in my computer room. So here I stand in my pajamas with a butcher knife while you look on in shock. Before you question my sanity, please call the local farmer. I believe some of his purple cows have escaped.

This work has been published in the Teen Ink monthly print magazine. This piece has been published in Teen Ink’s monthly print magazine.






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Childofthemind said...
Apr. 17, 2013 at 6:27 pm
I LOVE IT!         so if white cows make milk and brown cows make chocolate milk..... what do purple cows make?
 
Koala_girl said...
Apr. 17, 2013 at 3:29 pm
This was hilarious as well as exellently written! I feel like there are lots of parallels to real-life situations...including, believe it or not, situations not involving purple cows! :D
 
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