Whilst considering the divorce of my birth parents I happened upon a wounded animal.
The beast was laying in ditch, and it may have been a horse. At that moment I realized the words of a reputable doctor; “Yer femurs broken boy, if yous bein’ a horse then I’s gotta pert you down.” I hurriedly examined the dying steed. As it was i had to follow the practitioners advice, although its femur was intact it was not attached to its body. I relinquished my bowler from my noggin and swiftly smothered the horses face. As its body became limp in my arms I felt a great guilt. I felt so full of self-reproach that I dashed home and devoured ninety cartons of cabbage. Suffice to say it was a great Christmas.