People like me are a disgrace to life. An unloved, unbeknownst, invisible person in whom others can find ultimate victory for themselves at my loss. I was born to be separated from people It is said that I can make it on my own. Why me? Why did I have to be born to be nothing at all?
I don’t want to exist, says the minotaur, me. I am saddened by the fact that I am unloved. I don’t want to live this way. I cannot be a part. I am embarrassed. Why did the law allow the menfolk to get away with this criminal behavior? Where will I go when I die?
I hope that it is somewhere where I’ll never have to put up with injustice again. I ran down the hill at full gallop charging forward into the stomach of the man. He seemed fully aware of the crime, at least it was in his mind. Poor me, the man limped away muttering insane cursings. The man, I was at a loss to say, had won. I, in extreme pain, winced at full gallop and collapsed my right horn into the man.
“Sensibilities tell me to cooperate,” said he.
“I guess,” said the minotaur.
“I wish the man luck. He chucks it up as a victory against me, the minotaur. The man can’t stand my good fortune and good luck,” said me.
