Acrylic, 24” x 30”, Framed

Bull Dream

By Cora Ellen Nimmo

Other night, I dreamt of a bull. 

I don’t remember the color. Whether he was coal black or ghost white or rusty red, I have no clue. Neither do I know if he was an aberdeen, a belgian blue, hallicar, cachena, ongole, or brangus. There’s simply no recollection. 

All I remember is the feeling of knowing he was about to charge and waiting two seconds too long before dashing to safety behind the nearest round bale. This happened over and over. 

A common dream. 

Nowadays, I’m always grateful for the smell of hay even though I choke on its dust.