cow

she did not like being called a cow. she was not a cow, oh no, no cow, no, but every bit human, a wonderful one at that.

but on some weird tuesday mornings she had the unmatchable ability to smell wonderfully differently. different spectrum of scented sensations, very like the one one would be subjected to while walking a beautiful, inhabited country side. flowers, breeze, rain, cows.

she was not comfortable at all, at all, when she was made to know of this fact - that on weird mornings such, that she smelt like rain. or clouds. or cows. no, liked that not.

she awaited that dream, that special dream when some one would walk into her dreams and tell her that to smell like rain or to smell like a cow, is not a bad thing. at all.

sun shone. the rains poured. she waited.