The bull was at the window all night.
Nose against the glass, his hot breath fogging it and his hoof constantly tapping, in that slow, irregular way.
My wife rolled over and said if I just ignored him, if I didn’t get involved, he’d give up and leave. I was about to say how I’ve been trying to ignore him, but she’d already fallen asleep again.
I burrowed under my thin pillows, pressing them hard against my ear, turned away from the window and pulled the blankets up over my head.
Could still hear the bastard tapping though.