Bokelskere.no

THE CHICKEN

As I was walking down Stanton Street early one Sunday morning, I saw a chicken a few yards ahead of me. I was walking faster than the chicken, so I gradually cought up. By the time we approached Eighteenth Avenue, I was close behind. The chicken turned south on Eighteenh. At the fourth house along, it turned in at the walk, hopped up the front steps, and rapped sharply on the metal storm door with its beak. After a moment, the door opened and the chicken went in.

Linda Elegant, Portland, Oregon