The HighwayWilliam Thatch
“CUNT!” the Bad Man bellowed into the air, the expletive giving way into a low groan.
That was her name, as far as she could tell. Cunt. It’s what her master, whom she had come to refer to as the Bad Man, called her the most. He would mutter it under his breath any time he passed by the fifteen-foot diameter dirt circle she had cleared for herself. He’d shout it out the door of the dirty, dingy Person-House whenever she would warn the squirrels dancing in the trees above to go away or else.
She didn’t like her name. The T sounded aggressive, especially the way the Bad Man enunciated it.
She preferred the way he had said it once upon coming home. He had narrowly avoided riding the Big Metal Beast into the tree she was chained to. He had fallen out of the side a
