You did everything else right: tended the immaculate coop twice daily, fed only Noland’s Layers’ Blend. I grew fat on bugs, seeds, eggs, and finally, chickens. You suspected, but my luck held as not once, but twice, you released me from the trap, your sights set on an imagined fox.
Susan Heisner is the recipient of a 1st Place Big Write 2021 Award for her short story, Tales of the Wyoming Wordslinger. She favors flash fiction and wishes she could tap the everyday as well as Billy Collins does.
He revels in his mystic communion with wildlife.
Birds perch on his wrist and peck birdseed from his palm. A skunk visits his porch nightly to be petted. He hand-feeds squirrels, raccoons, rabbits, even deer.
Their trust in him is a blessing. He’s having rabbit stew tonight and venison tomorrow.
Alex Markovich lives in a suburb of New York with Jackie, his wife of 57 years and his toughest literary critic. His stories have appeared in 50-Word Stories, Blue Lake Review, Halfway Down the Stairs, Still Crazy, and other lit mags.
The aroma of chicken soup teases my nostrils, now red and swollen.
I squinch my eyes from sinus pain. Temples throb. Joints ache.
My pity party halts as I reflect on the chicken’s last day. What it ate. How it died.
Maybe I’ll eat scrambled eggs and buttered toast instead.
Jeff Switt likes to write.