“Did you hear about that one farm house, just down the road from the office?”
“Did you know about the old sheep, the one who grew barbed wired wool?”

The rumors never did end, did they? It was getting ridiculous.
To think it all started from a toddler.
A nonsensical toddler who thought the barbed wire came from an animal, instead of a manufacturing company.
The child said the farmer had a nick on his finger after a night’s work with the sheep, then the next day he had barbed wire strung around the wooden fences. He even sold some and made a good profit, I think the turnout was about $130 on the news. No records of him buying it in any shops.

The idea then came to my workplace. Where people who once worked on designing prints for other companies, are now sitting in the break room, nursing cups of coffee, and talking about sheep growing barbed wires.
It made my head hurt, so I had just taken a cup back to my office.

Which leads me to where I am now, staring at a string of code I constructed.
I had some files on a hard drive, but they didn’t do any good when I couldn’t give them to the press. (They were caught up in this rumor stuff too.)

I looked at my closed door, then stood up to look outside at the shed just next to the office. Being on the second floor made it an awkward view, but at least it was a good repellant from my co-workers trying to barge into my office to see out the window.

I could see the farmer working with a mediocre assistant to try shaving a sheep. I guess he got a bit sick of the rumors too. One had to hold the sheep and its legs while the farmer calmly trimmed the wool away. Wool. Not barbed wire.

Why did I have to reaffirm my mind?
I knew it was wool from the very beginning.

My eyes stayed glued to the farmer and his hands as they moved close to the wool. Not a single thing to worry about.
I was just spacing out.
That’s all.

A knock rang out at the door, and I snapped my head to it. I stood up straight before the door inched open without my discretion.

“May we come in, sir?” A meek woman was the one speaking.
“Please, be my guest.” I felt my legs automatically rush over to my chair to sit down properly and rest for their well-earned break. “What do you need help with?”
After my query, I saw a few other people walk in. They all had the same uniform I did, but why a sudden herd? Did some of the equipment fail? What even happened to their sheep talk session?
My brain silently racked itself before the lady spoke again.
“We were wondering if you can stay a few hours after, you’ll be paid of course, and there’s no work!”
That sounded like it was a dream. And I know life didn’t bend to dreams. So I asked, “What for?”
“We want to go see the sheep!” She no longer seemed as shy anymore, instead she looked overjoyed.
“No.”
“Please, we’ll pay you double!” A younger, more eager worker piped up.
“That’s not how that works.” I shook my head.

The group seemed to look at each other before someone else spoke up. “If we go alone we would be a risk.” Must’ve been Dan from the way he sounded.
It took me a moment to realize that he was using their irresponsibility as a threat against me of all people.
“Which is exactly why you shouldn’t go at all.” I glanced them all over
“Are you also involved in the ‘wool business’?” It was Lynn this time.
“In the ‘wool business’? What, no.” I stood up. “Can you all just get out of my office unless you actually need something?”

A few of the workers did decide to back into the hallway eventually, including Lynn. They dispersed fast despite the slow exit, each office door now shutting while people resumed…whatever it is they do.
I’d assume work, but I’d probably be wrong.

My eyes went back over to the window but I shook my head. It was all a folly, so why bother?
I grabbed the handle to my office door and shut it. The room was tightly enclosed, so the door made a subtle current that knocked a page off my desk.
I walked to the desk and knelt down. It was a blank sheet of paper but I still didn’t want it to just lay on the ground.

I heard it crumple under the pressure of my fingers closing around it, and I felt for a moment like I was in control of chaos. It was nice.

I tossed it into the trash bin then looked out the window again. Storm clouds were brewing but at least that meant the farmer wouldn’t be outside for long.
I kept watching every detail before shutting the blinds. I think I did enough lurking to advocate I might care more than I let on.

The day progressed in its regular fashion, and the power didn’t even flicker. It was finally time for me to head home.
The rain stopped, so the walk wouldn’t be as horrible. Doesn’t change the fact I have to walk near the farm.

I grabbed my bag and began to head out. Taking a sharp turn out of the office, I saw the farm gates immediately.
Just keep walking. Just keep walking.
Do not look, and don’t engage.

But I couldn’t stop my awkward side glance as I noted the barbed wire fence, then the barbed wire pile near the sheep area.
He has to be playing into this whole ordeal.
Whatever benefits sales.

I kept walking but right at the corner, there was a sheep in the enclosure. It was loose but not running.
I saw the wool on it was normal and huffed. It looked stuck, so I looked at the fence and grabbed some of the wool. I lifted it up, and around the prickly coating the wire had. It immediately bleated then ran off back to its pin.
I realized my finger was now bleeding from the fence pricking me. That has to be what people were seeing.

It wasn’t a sheep magically growing a barbed wire coat, it was a sheep stuck on a freshly bought fence before being shaved.
Now my entire day felt silly. I knew the rumors were silly, but it was something else to see an actual explanation to the rumors.