Audrey (cow) by Dan Bar-el, Tatjana Mai-Wyss

By Dan Bar-el, Tatjana Mai-Wyss

Audrey is a cow with poetry in her blood, who yearns for the greener pastures past Bittersweet Farms. but if Roy the pony tells this bovine dreamer that she is headed for Abbot's warfare, the slaughter condominium, Audrey is aware that she needs to depart her domestic and neighbors ahead of she ever imagined. With assistance from a complete staff of animals and people alike, Audrey makes an attempt to flee the farm she lives on--and yes dying. Cleverly written as an oral account, this distinct illustrated story of an animal at the run, advised "to camera", makes use of over thirty narrative voices, together with six people, 4 cows, 3 sheep, sheep canines, one pig and a really foolish hen. choked with middle and humor, Audrey (cow) is eventually a really human tale approximately lifestyles and loss of life, friendship, and protecting directly to one's dreams--based kind of on a real tale.

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Sample text

I wasn't a sneak I'd never be like Rif—a housemaid who'd spied on the other maids and tattled, thinking to gain favor. But the Mother of Arca told her, "I don't like sneaks," and had her sold at the Market. Rif was the only adult slave who had been sold from our House in all my life. There was trust on both sides. There had to be. When the morning lesson was over, Everra gave punishment for disturbing the class: Tib and Hoby were to learn an extra page of the Acts; all three of us were to write out the Forty-first Lesson of Trudec's Moralities; and I was to copy out thirty lines of Garro's epic poem The Siege and Fall of Sentas into the fair-copy book and have them memorised by tomorrow.

The Forty-first. I gave Sallo the book and went over to the side bench. Astano gave me the book of the Acts of the City and a sweet smile. She was fifteen, tall and thin, so light-skinned that her brothers called her the Ald, after the people in the eastern deserts who are said to have white skins and hair like sheep; but "ald" also means stupid. Astano wasn't stupid, but she was shy; and had perhaps learned the Forty-first Morality almost too well. Silent and proper and modest and self-contained, a perfect Senator's daughter: you had to know Astano very well to know how warm-hearted she was and what unexpected thoughts she could think.

At the far end of the street smoke was billowing out in big greasy clouds with red flames inside them. People were running past me, all over the square, women and men, most of them running towards the Senate Square, shouting and calling out, but city guards ran by in the other direction with their swords drawn. Then I could see soldiers at the far end of Long Street under a green banner; they had long lances, and the ones on horseback had swords. The guards met with them, and there was deep shouting, and ringing and clashing like a smithy, and the whole crowd of men, a great writhing knot of armor and helmets and bare arms and swords, came closer and closer.

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