It's not about the house.

Thursday, January 15, 2009

R.I.P., Bird

Why won't EGE write?

Maybe she can't, did you ever think of that? Maybe she saw a chicken running down the road this afternoon, in a place that no chicken really ever ought to be, and maybe she considered stopping the car to pick it up -- maybe she even imagined how happy Johnny would be if she came home and presented him with his own Henrietta II -- but maybe then she had visions of Rocky Balboa and Burgess Meredith and just kept right on driving.

And maybe it's haunting her now, the thought of that poor chicken winding up roadkill in front of the shipyard. And maybe she doesn't know why that idea bothers her so much more than your regular-old, standard-issue, shipyard-style, seagull-and-etcetera, avian roadkill, but it does. And so maybe that thought is haunting her, too.  

 Plus, the bird in question was a Rhode Island Red.

And, as we all know: 
Brown eggs are local eggs, and local eggs are fresh!


Charlie said...

"Chickens symbolize cowardliness and a lack of willpower. Chickens also represent excessive chatter and gossip."

Maybe the chicken was a sign that you should get your lazy self back to work!

ege said...

This was not a dream chicken, man. It was real!

And I am working, just not here. So there. Nyeah!