A man and his cow.

Somewhere in the middle of the years of our Earth there lived a man and his cow. There was nothing significant about their appearance. Both were pale, of average height, weight and IQ, with no outstanding features. You might call them “average” in every respect, except for the conclusion of their story. However, do not be tempted to peek at the end of the story. It will make no sense to you out of context.

The man and the cow, they wandered all over the earth, starting in North America. They cleared the land, felling trees and building fences. They ridded the continent of pesky furbearing creatures and other scavengers. The land belonged to them and no other. As the man and his cow grew fat, other less deserving beings withered away, leaving sun-bleached architectures of cartilage and impressions of their once-being behind. As a reminder? To whom? The man and his cow? They did not care. Their cares were singular.

Eventually, the man and the cow consumed all of North America. They entered South America unnoticed. Extreme measures to dispose of entries occurred only in the other direction, i.e. south to north. Across the border they cleared the land, felling trees and building fences. They ridded the continent of pesky furbearing creatures and other scavengers. The land belonged to them and no other. As the man and his cow grew fatter, other even less deserving beings than those in North America withered away, leaving sun-bleached architectures of cartilage and impressions of their once-being behind.