Flash Fiction: Identity Crisis

I remember what it was like to be a tiny, little lamb. Everybody adored me. They’d cuddle with me. Children would feed me grass they’d just picked from across the fence.

Then, one day, a little boy pointed out to his Mommy that I wasn’t a tiny, little lamb after all. He told his Mommy that I may’ve been dressed in sheep’s clothing, but that didn’t make me a lamb.

From that point on, everybody hated me. No more cuddles for me. No more grass feeds for me. Farmers started campaigning to be allowed to kill me.

But I still feel like that tiny, little lamb. How tragic it is to be a wolf in an identity crisis.


This post was written for Twiglet #326, which is “to be a wolf”.

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