not without a bit of pain did ronald withdraw his hand from the
corpse grinder.
the stench of happy meat hanging dead in the heat
flies revolving, ever-circling
watching, waiting
eggs to lay....always, so many eggs to lay.ronald moves to where the gentle calves sway
chains rattle soft, chime-like.
he closes his eyes in silence...it is late...the lights fade;
somewhere in the distance, the lock clicks shut...
he is alone.
None.