What Did You See

The girl being hurried past by her parents sees piglets and wonders why they’re hurting.

They remind her of her puppy.

The head-turned boy watching at the stoplight sees fish and asks why they’re bleeding.

They remind him of Fin.

The mother with three peering through the restaurant window sees macerators and baffles at humanity.

She thinks of her sons.

The father herding family sees sexual violation and cries when he sees the cows’ faces.

He imagines his daughters’.

The security guard viewing from her yards-away post sees sheep and gags at hinds sawed.

She’d imagined better shepherds.

The ex-slaughterhouse worker sees chained male caves and shudders at cold, tight imprisonment.

He remembers years past.

The family-inherited farmer sees gasping hens and recalls her first use of kill cones.

She was eight. She ate her best friend.

The “already vegetarian” sees mother cows moaning and staggers at blades slid through throats.

He thinks Meet Your Meat.

What did you see?