to me. If I hear one analogy
about baskets or hatching --
Here's the thing, about chickens.
Once they hatch, they are still just
baby chickens. They are walking
death-traps. How do any of them
ever survive? They are fuzzy balls
looking for something to crush them.
Why does anyone care about chickens
hatching, anyway?
I had an egg once. And as it grew
never once did
I count it as a chicken.
I watched it incubating.
Just stared at a single --
no... wait. Single
is a counting word --
just looked at a --
just watched the heated
box and its contents and
then
crack.
A beak, burst through
the flaky shell,
pawing about for
air.
Yes.
One chicken.
But as I stared,
the shell crumbled
away to show patches
of scale, and fangs
grinning
wide from a full-
lipped mouth.
The beak that I
had hopefully counted,
nothing more than
a quivering bone
spur -- stretching
and snapping from
my beast's elbow.
Good God --
what was
I waiting for?
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