EXEGETICAL THESIS ON THE EVILS OF THE HEN 5

I actually slept very well that night. The thoughts of the fact that the hens which had plagued me for so long a time had eaten my poison cocktail, and were most likely going to turn up dead by the time the sun rose, made my heart warm, and sleep come quickly.

My dreams were not as pleasant as I had hoped. I found myself being pursued over hills and deep waters by some shadowy hen, whose size was twice as big as I was, and which could run just as fast as me, if not faster. Just when the hen was gaining on me, and about to peck my brains out, or do some unspeakable thing to me, I woke up.

The first thing I heard was a cockerel crowing at the sunrise. Another cursed chicken, waking me from the world of dreams, although to an extent I had to be grateful, as one chicken had saved me from the horrors of its dream compatriot. In any case, I decided there was still a lot to be happy about. My mortal enemies in the waking world were dead, killed by poison.

I had brushed my teeth, taken my bath, and dressed up. Perhaps I would return to my former place of employment and seek redress for the injustice I had been served as a result of the spiritual meddling of the hens in my life. With the hens dead, I was sure my luck would turn.

I opened the door to see nine black hens on a bamboo fence, staring at me. The same nine black hens that I had fed poison. I had most likely been cheated by the person that sold me the rat killer, who had probably sold me something harmless and had swindled me of my money.

At that moment, I had felt an overwhelming urge to go back and taste the rat poison to see whether it was actually potent. As a matter of fact, I had found myself holding the container of the rat poison and tipping my head back, about to empty the contents into my mouth, when I checked myself. If I wanted to see whether this thing was potent, it would not be on myself that I would test it.

I had eventually managed to secure the services of a rat, which I had force-fed some of the contents of the rat poison container. Its death, which occurred in less than ten minutes, looked markedly painful.

It was then I realized that those things we call hens are most certainly not what we think they are.

To be Continued..

Thanks for coming!

That little boy,

@pearlumie