Story of a chicken: Adventures

By Rafael Estrada

This story you are going to read was told to me by a chicken I met from a battery egg stand. The poor woman was locked in a cage with the lights on twenty-four hours a day. They did that with the intention of deceiving her, so she wouldn't fall asleep and lay eggs and more eggs without stopping. That hen was not alone on the floor: hundreds of them, by their side, laid an egg behind another, clumping extraordinary stories that only the initiated hens knew ...

• Language: English
• Publisher: BadPress
• Release date: Sep 18, 2019
• ISBN: 9781071504567

Book preview

This story you are going to read was told to me by a chicken I met in a battery egg rack. The poor woman was locked in a cage with the lights on twenty-four hours a day. They did that with the intention of deceiving her, so she wouldn't fall asleep and lay eggs and eggs without stopping. That hen was not alone in the heir; Hundreds of them, by their side, laid an egg after another without questioning, chattering extraordinary stories that only the initiated hens knew.

I knew that. I had heard that the best stories come from the hens of the heir, who cackled one story after another to combat the terrible boredom that weighs on them and the inhuman conditions to which they are subjected. Although their eggs are of lower quality than those of poultry or biological hens, their stories are better.

When I opened the cage and took the chicken in my hands, I felt that his body often turned.

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- One moment, one moment ...! What do you intend to do with me?

- I'm going to get you out of here.

- Has my time come yet? Am I going to feed your barbarian species?

- No. I just pretend to free you.

- Me alone? He was surprised.

- I can not release them all - I replied lowering the tone of voice -. Because they would make such a fuss that they would end up catching them again. However, if one is missing, they will not notice.

- That seems reasonable. And why are you going to free me, precisely me?

- I have chosen you for your beautiful wavy crest - I said adulterating it -. I've seen ridges like pads, others look like a procession of peas buried in the head. Although most have an acceptable crest of four peaks, there is not a single chicken in the entire hedge with a double wavy crest like yours.

- That's true - she swaggered proudly - The reason is that I belong to a select lineage of chickens. The oldest and the only one who is able to communicate with trees, which we saved from extinction long, long time ago.

- Did the chickens prevent the trees from disappearing?

- How do you hear it. But it didn't help, because it is a species with too many birds on its head - there was the beginning of a fabulous story that the chicken was wanting to tell. However it stopped. He looked at me with the shadow of a suspicion in his eyes and asked

- And what do you want in return? Because I know that humans only do something when you expect to get a benefit.

I blushed because the chicken had guessed that my intentions were not entirely disinterested.

- Well, I just want a story. I'm a writer, you know? And I'm having a bad time. If you told me ...

The chicken made a gesture with the wing, implying that she had