The Story of the Khow

Perhaps it is by chance that khow decided to thread his hooves into the virtual alleys. Not knowing what the past meant to him, not clear of what the present is, not sure of what the future holds for him. Here he is, threading with his hooves. Recording what had been the past or the present or vision of the future.

Man A: What's in your bottle?
Khow: Milk. Squeezed from my very own udder.
Man A: Why do you collect your own milk?
Khow: Don't you think it'll be sad when one day you forget what you can produce and you produce no more.

Man B: Where do you go from here? With your bottles of milk?
Khow: I don't know. If I remember, I'll give you a bottle.
Man B: What are they called?
Khow: khow's milk.

With that, khow stood up and started to move away in a melancholy manner.

Man A: Will you be back?
Khow: I'm always here. khow's milk is here.

He began his journey and disappeared among the mist of the dark virtual alleys.