The Bull by Maureen Sherbondy

One day Lydia’s husband returned from work as a bull. She didn’t like this version of him. The house shook when he moved about the split-level house; dishes fell and shattered. Dirt also trailed behind wherever he walked. Lydia grew tired of cleaning up after him.

He told his wife it was a dog-eat-dog world out there. That he’d had to change to compete with the other animals at the office.

“Couldn’t you have become a dog? A pit bull or German shepherd?”

He delivered a dismissive snort.

When the bed broke on the second night, Lydia shook her head back and forth.

The following evening when her husband returned from work, a pen stared back at him in the front yard. This didn’t really surprise the bull-husband. Lydia had always been a problem solver. Early in their marriage, he had liked this quality. But then the animal side of him took over. When his wife walked outside to retrieve the mail, he roared at the red dish towel twirling before him.

Lydia swished the red towel away and watched as her husband’s horns crashed into the brick house.

Maureen Sherbondy’s work has appeared in Wigleaf, Prelude, Fiction Southeast, and other journals. She lives in Durham, NC.