BULL RIDER
The little boy slid nonchalantly onto the back of the huge beast, his staff in his hand, unaware of his audience. I snapped a few more shots of him. He was unconcerned, as much so as the creature upon whom he perched, a David on Goliath's back. I watched him as he stared with curious concentration into the distance. I knew what he saw. I had seen it too, but my response to it was nothing near as quietly composed as his appeared to be. Nor as disinterested in the way of children whose curiosity may be peaked without any attached importance being given to that which makes them want to see. It was not an event to spark any other than passing curiosity, even the piercingly intent kind that marked the way of a child.
I watched him settle himself on the back of the ox, which kept its own counsel as it tore the grass and swallowed, oblivious to all but the call of its first stomach. An idle thought flitted through my mind...aside from the lean kine in the Old Testament story, I had never seen or heard of a thin cow. And yet, all it ate was leafy green "veggies". The absurdity of my wayward thought brought a rueful smile to my lips, as I turned my attention in the direction of the boy's gaze. The cloud of smoke that rose into the morning sky was far enough away that he knew it was not his village.
What he did not know was that the ones who caused that smoke were headed his way, and soon his peaceful morning rides would forever be interrupted, discontinued, and he himself, if not a corpse, might be a refugee, wounded, lost, apart from those who cared for him. I sighed for the loss of his innocence, and wished I could do more than record its end. But I was not a soldier. My job was to record events for posterity, so others could learn from the mistakes of their neighbors, and possibly avert another catastrophe. This was the order of the world. I struggled with my cynicism as I walked away.
I could not save this bull rider, but I could preserve his memory, if nothing else...
Copyright © 2010 by Teri K D Bannerman
Read others here----->Challenge 37
9 comments:
no..not preserving the memory of the bull rider but recording an event....
Well done. You have a clever style that is easy and interesting to read. Story reminds me of the journalist who took the pic of the running girl burnt with napalm. Was asked how he could take photos rather than help her.
What did he say?
Thanks for the compliment, by the way!
memory preserved well. :)
Such harsh truths to face ...
Fantastic write!
Thanks, T : )) *Hugs*
Thank YOU, sweetie! :)
And new questions raised, Arielle!
Meat is just reconstituted vegetables. I like your creation.
Hehe! Good one, Monique!
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