Petition

After Elinor Lipper The creature that had once been a man handed over his petition, a stained and grimy scrap, handed it to his lord and master, a petition asking to be transferred to the status of a horse. You son-of-a-whore, the master, kicking for good measure, bellowed. What do you mean by this? The creature that had once been a man, having considered deeply his petition, answered: If I were a horse, I would have one day off in ten. As is, I have none. As a horse, I could rest now and again during work. As a former man, I cannot. As a horse, I would be expected to perform work equal to my strength. As a prisoner, I am always hungry, and hungry, I work less and get less bread, so I can barely stand. A horse gets a stable and two blankets. I have no blankets, no jacket. If a driver beats a horse too hard, he is punished, for a horse is precious. If the brigadiers beat and kick me, it is like beating a tree. So you see, a prisoner is nothing here. But a horse? A horse is something! Inside the frozen and the broken vista, the plea had a ring of truth heard even by the lord and master, who had previously been a man himself, and who, when no other former men could see, attached that name to the page, granting the horse a stable and two blankets.