The Chicken

It's a story about a chicken! what more could you ask for people?

Mary fidgeted anxiously from one foot to the other, watching the struggling worm dangle delicately from the red hen's bone colored lips. Mary would've pounced forward and snatched it from her pompous face, but those claws were sharp and she was just smart enough to hold back.

Instead of giving in to her instinct, she chirped uneasily, pacing like a clockwork toy and feeling the dark, bio-fertilizer squelch between her ridged toes. Every nerve in her body sang, urging her to lean forward and slap the worm from Vogul's mouth. She could feel her hollow bones ache with the need, but she was cautious and kept her distance.

Vogul slurped the meaty worm into her mouth, her head snapping forward as she choked down the pithy meal with a rapacious hunger. Mary felt the dismay of her stomach as it growled underneath her feathered breast. Before she knew it, her legs were kicking out from under her, the tip of her break aimed at the last morsel of fatty flesh that dribbled from Vogul's face.

With a CLACK Vogul's beak turned to the side and Mary, unable to compensate, smacked into the unyielding faceplate. The red feathered Vogul howled and kicked out, her heavy talons punching Mary like the tines of a steel fork. Mary screeched and flapped her wings frantically, dust and hayseeds spilling upwards from the moist ground. She landed some feet away, nursing her new scratches and whining softly with her head held low.

Mary's stomach would not yield to her efforts though; it grumbled and tossed until she felt sick with hunger. She was the smallest chicken in the yard and she should have known that she wouldn't be able to best a hen like Vogul. But in creatures as simple and driven as Mary was, life was a series of calculations driven by the basic needs of the body. She was hungry and nothing occupied her thoughts like the burning desire to satiate her appetite.

But Mary was not alone; there were a lot of other chickens that she shared the yard with, and none as aggressive and boisterous as Vogul. The red feathered hen strutted around the yard with all the pomp of a rooster, without all the tools to go with the title. She bullied poor Mary mercilessly and whenever the lucky old hen found a worm or an insect crawling in the fresh fertilizer, she would eat it in front of Mary. Over and over Vogul taunted the poor little chicken with her hoggish meals, until Mary had had quite enough.

Exhausted and stressed, Mary cleaned her brown feathers with an attentive fussiness. She groaned as she felt the hot pangs of her craving pulsing through her body like aching blood. She had to get something today! She had to scrounge up something to eat or she would surely starve.

Mary began sniffing the dirt, feeling the waves of powdered scent flush through her tiny nostrils, the information flowing through her brain like computer code. Minerals...seed....fertilizer...but she wasn't looking for any of that. Mary's nose was tuned to the smell of worm castings and her belly ached at the thought of gulping down one of those sumptuous tidbits. Her claws carved trident trails through the potash as she scoured the ground for the scent of the worm.

Mary's bill pushed downwards as her nostrils lifted particulates of dirt with every inhalation, but soon she found it. The enticing scent of worm castings was a promise of a lavish meal to come and she quickened her pace, digging into the earth with a renewed vigor.

Then she found it; like a spark striking in the dark her beak hit the wet, sloshy skin of a thick ropey worm burrowing in the deep. A switch was flipped in her avian brain as she felt it, and her mouth snapped ravenously to try and get ahold of it. The worm wriggled and fought to get away, but it was sluggish with water, and the ground was like a thick soup that slowed its escape. Mary didn't have much trouble clamping onto it with her razor edged bill, drawing it from the earth with a watery slurping sound.

The worm drooped from her face like an overlong tongue, and she savored the salty taste. Her stomach howled and she began to suck it down with a satisfied chirp.

Then Vogul struck, slapping out with her foot first to knock Mary off balance. Mary screeched and her mouth opened reflexively to let out a startled cry. Vogul took the chance and snatched the worm from her face, stealing it away just before she could bolt it down.

Vogul scattered away with the worm sliding down her red feathered gullet, leaving Mary bewildered and incensed, still trying to find her balance. If chickens could swear, then Mary would have let out a wretched stream of expletives as Vogul pranced away with her hard earned worm.

But Mary wasn't about to let Vogul get away with it this time. Something within this tiny chicken had changed and, despite the constant pull of instinct, Mary was no long content to allow Vogul her victory. She trudged after the bigger hen, her trembling claws sinking into the heavy earth. She was no longer afraid, no longer cautious. She was going to stand up to Vogul and demand her compensation.

Mary found Vogul puttering lazily underneath a drooping oak tree, pawing at the leaf-covered ground. The other chickens had dispersed to the other corners of the yard, leaving Mary and Vogul alone for their confrontation. Mary stared intently at Vogul, her beady little eyes burning with a fiery anger. Vogul returned her baleful look, scratching the earth and fluffing her wings with a haughty air.

The two opponents glared at each other, only a few feet between them, holding them back from their inevitable confrontation. Vogul refused to back down, Mary refused to drop the issue and return to her ordained social position. This could only end one way.

"This one looks good!" Farmer Joe called from across the yard. His checked red shirt crinkled as he leaned forward, his calloused hands clamping onto Vogul's neck and dragging her off the ground. She screeched and squirmed helplessly in his iron grip as he brought her up to his height and inspected her with a careful eye.

"A nice big fat one! Get the fryer goin May!" Farmer Joe chuckled, his long legs swaying as he made his way back to the house. Dust clouds of dry dirt filled the air as he strolled his way out of the yard with Vogul, still struggling in one hand. Mary watched him go, her little black eyes following his footsteps as he went through the gate and clicked the latch behind him. Her eyes were drawn to Vogul, flapping pitifully in his hand and squirming to be free.

Mary smiled as only a chicken could, before turning back to the dirt, her tummy grumbling with delight.

Thus concludes the story of The Chicken. Did you like it? Did you hate it? let me know. Leave lots of Comments for me to read, and if you like the story, give it a big ol' Vote.

And if you like my writing in general, you can Follow David Kennedy for more stories like this one. It was fun to write and I might do more like it. 

Love you all,

-ADKD

Author's Note

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