Air Freshener by Marquita Cabrera

“I can’t sleep,” I say. “Why?” asks the bull. “I got too much on my mind.” “You really should shut your eyes.” “I just told you I can’t sleep.” “Well, just try,” the bull says. I flick off my bedroom switch and watch the curtains sway as the wind from the open window hits the edges. I roll over to my right side and close my eyes. The bull rolls over facing my side and grabs my hips. His fierce nostrils spray hot air on my neck. I immediately open my eyes, sit up, and stare at him. “What are you doing?” He stares back with an amused smile on his lips. “I’m rocking you to sleep.” I scratch my head and look around for anything I can hit him with. I look back at him. He still has that amused smile on his lips. “I was just helping you out,” the bull says. “I was on my way to Lala Land, thank you,” I say. “What’s wrong with cuddling?” “You’re aggressive. You don’t strike me as the sensitive type.” “You need to stop being racist!” “What? That doesn’t even make sense,” I say. We turn to opposite sides of the bed. The bull faces the open darkness next to the dresser. I face the window where the wind continues to blow the curtains. He plays with his nose ring while his horns puncture the pillows under him. I rest my eyes again. The cool air feels good.

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