The Gentle Bull's Zombie Friend

Barnaby was no ordinary bull. With his midnight-black coat and eyes like warm honey, he was the gentlest creature on Sunnybrook Farm. He loved daisy chains, butterflies, and especially the little girl who lived next door named Mia.

One autumn afternoon, Mia ran to the fence, her eyes wide. 'Barnaby! There's a zombie in the forest! I saw it – messy hair, dragging feet, making strange moaning sounds!'

Barnaby chewed his cud thoughtfully. He had seen many things in his years, but never a zombie. 'Let us investigate together,' he seemed to say, nudging her hand with his velvety nose.

Hand in hoof (well, almost), they ventured into the golden woods. Leaves crunched beneath their feet. And there – dragging through the autumn foliage – was the strangest sight indeed.

Wild white hair stuck out in every direction. Moans came from its moving mouth. It shuffled one foot at a time, arms reaching forward.

Mia gasped and hid behind Barnaby's strong back.

But Barnaby didn't run. He stepped forward, his big brown eyes full of curiosity. And then he let out a happy snort!

The 'zombie' looked up. It was old Mr. Willowby, the kind carpenter who lived in the cottage by the stream! His white hair was wild because he'd fallen asleep under his apple tree. His moans? Just him humming while searching for his glasses in the leaves!

'Oh my!' Mr. Willowby chuckled, finding his glasses. 'I must look quite frightful!' His hair was full of twigs and little apple blossoms.

Mia giggled. 'You looked like a zombie!'

Mr. Willowby laughed too. 'I suppose a zombie wouldn't accept a fresh apple, would he?' He held out three perfect red apples. 'One for you, one for Barnaby, and one for me.'

That afternoon, they sat together in the golden sunshine – a girl, a gentle bull, and a man with messy white hair. They ate apples and told stories, and Mia learned something important:

Sometimes the things that seem scariest are just friends we haven't met yet.