Just Grazing: a story in 60 seconds

“Let food be thy medicine, and let medicine be thy food.” --- Hippocrates

Even when the weather wasn’t to their liking, the three aging Southern belles always preferred to take their Wednesday tea out on the veranda overlooking the pasture. This afternoon happened to be particularly summery, with the August sun beating down on the earth and punishing the acres of fledgling crops.

Samantha Jane fanned herself with a pamphlet from the local parish as she watched a flock of crows settle on an empty patch of dirt. “I say, it’s hotter than the devil’s playground out here,” she began, dabbing at her brow with a cloth napkin from the table setting. “And now Benjamin says he’s worried about the well drying up. Lord, I would just die if I couldn’t water my azaleas.”

Beth nodded as she dropped another sugar cube into her tumbler of iced tea. “Oh, yes,” she murmured. “The flowers certainly take a scorching during these hot spells. But who doesn’t? Look at me—I’ve already sweat myself down to a size ten.”

The oldest of the three, Genevieve, just grunted quietly.

Samantha Jane glanced at the frail woman who was practically disintegrating in the summer heat. “Genny, what’s the matter? You haven’t touched your cucumber sandwich, and I took such care in slicing off the crust just how you like.”

The old woman muttered something inaudible.

“What was that, Genevieve?” Beth asked politely.

“She’s getting fat,” Genevieve finally mumbled. “Always eating. Always eating.”

The other two ladies shook their heads.

Samantha Jane spoke up sweetly. “Are you talking about Jessie again? Remember, it’s healthy for a girl her age to eat. She’s still growing.”

But Genevieve held firm. “Lazy,” she spat. “That’s what she is. A big, fat, lazy girl. Eating as if she’s got five stomachs. I’ve told Harvey enough is enough, but he’s got such a soft spot for that one. God knows why.”

“You know, Genny,” Beth started, “I must humbly disagree. As a woman who is no stranger to raising girls, I don’t think it’s right to disrupt their eating habits. All the literature says malnutrition can cause fertility problems down the road. Now, wouldn’t that be a tragedy?”

Samantha Jane agreed, but Genevieve just stared past them as if their opinions were bugs on a windshield. “What the hell do you two know?” the old woman finally squawked. “When Harvey gets home, I’m going to tell him it’s time to take that heifer out back.”

Beth swatted at a fly as it attempted to land on the platter of untouched finger sandwiches. She was hot and uncomfortable and tired of arguing with her senile neighbor. “Fine, Genevieve. Do what you want. But I must say that I think the heat is distorting your sense. I still can’t for the life of me understand why you’d want to slaughter a perfectly healthy dairy cow before she gives birth.”

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