Daphne hadn’t been in Montana long and had only been with Clay less than a year when the phone rang.
”Is Clay around,” said the man on the other line.
”No, he’s in town, “Daphne answered.
”Well, this is Soot and I was irrigating and saw that Clay’s black bull blew up.”
Daphne, for once, was at a loss for words.
“I’ll get ahold of him and tell him, Soot,” she murmured.
“Yeh, he don’t look too good,” Soot replied.
“Yeh, I bet, “ she sighed, “Well, thanks.”
She hung up the phone and called Clay.
“I’ve got some bad news, Clay,” she cried, “Soot said your bull blew up!”
“Oh, shit,” he said.
”Who would do such a thing, Clay?
“What are you talking about?”
“Well who would blow up a bull? A teenager? Or did he step on a land mine and why would there be land mines? Do you use dynamite to blow up tree stumps? Oh that’s stupid, ” she babbled.
”His dick blew up. He didn’t blow up. He broke it breeding a cow and now it’s swollen.”
Oh, I didn’t know you could break that. Well is that better than being blown to smithereens?
“What do you think?”
“I guess not.”
“Shit happens.”
“Indeed it does.”
Happy to see you writing again, Daphne! Must be snowing.
Yup, it’s also 3 degrees
Poor bull.