Friday, April 17, 2015
Little chickens walk over the place. They are looking for grain but there is no grain. They get angry and start to bok in a harsh, guttaral tone that makes by blood curdle. I can see where this is going and slip out the window quietly. I know I should tell the others, try to warn them to get out, but my instant instinct for self preservation is too high. I put my headphones on and power walk down the street. I don't want to hear those boks and screams, I just don't wanna hear it.