“Sirloin,” by Zain Saeed

Aug 20th, 2015 | By | Category: Fiction, Prose

If I were a cow, which I am, moo, sup? From now on I’d think twice about oncoming cars, especially the ones with their lights on full moo, blindin’ my eyes, makin’ my tail go all wonky and clenched sphincters. I hadn’t seen one before, no siree, it was my first, damn moo. Mamoo and Pamoo had said somethin’ about these things called “naaaiivsss son naaaiivsss” which could kill me but I hadn’ seen any of those moos and Mamoo and Pamoo didn’ do English moo that well anyways cuz they spent their lives across the border speakin’ some other kind of moo don’ ask me I dunno. But yeah moo so there weren’ no knives but this car, you know? I was crossin the stra I mean street moo and it was dark and I was hungry and lookin’ for some chew time but here comes this light. Two lights. And I was like Mamoo is that a naaaiivvv but cuz Mamoo wasn’ there she couldn’ tell me. But I turned my neck and looked straight at it and it kept on gettin’ bigger and bigger and bigger and soon my eyes were hurtin’ but I didn’ move because moo it was my land bitch. Who the moo? But then it hit me, literally and figurativistically. Figurativistically it didn’ hurt, I realized that I should probably move but yeah it was too late to do that. I’m kinda lyin on the floor now. Somebody pick..aah, so that’s a naaaiiivv.


Defenestration-Zain SaeedZain Saeed was born and raised in Pakistan and is currently studying linguistics in Freiburg, Germany. His work has appeared or is forthcoming in Glimmer Train, The Freiburg Review, Bird’s Thumb, FLAPPERHOUSE, Gravel, Cease, Cows, Third Point Press, Bahamut Journal, and others. He tweets at @linguistictrain.

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