Buffalo Parade
Oct 22nd, 2024 by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
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The brown, mangy forelock and beard of the drum major serves as a baton for the rest of the herd despite being littered with straw. He marches forward without waiting for his retinue to follow. Their accordance is coded in.
The troop rushes forward like a flood of molasses, slow at every moment, but before we know it, we’re drowning in buffalo, breathing in their musk. They pretend to ignore us as we snap photos and move as far too close. They seem more like comfortable bedding than a physical threat.
Neither group understands the true danger it is in.
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