Today the cleaner was in town, and the butcher, in reality it was the same person and neither job was their profession, just the job they were doing when I was saw them.
Some guys were slaughtering a cow this morning. They just splayed it out on the concrete. Right in front of me on the footpath there was a severed head, cow hide with legs from the knee knuckle down still attached, a skinned quartered beast with two legs already hanging in the market place and the other two sitting next to the largest pile of guts I had ever seen.
A few hours later, I walked past the butcher’s concrete patch and the only telltale signs of the mornings earlier event was a neatly rolled hide with a broom stick on top, no blood, no flies, no mess. The cleaner is good.
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