A Cock-And-Whose Story

I first met Helen outside the local restaurant. She had just finished getting some rice to eat and was just looking to take a leisurely stroll – she was new to the neighborhood, I could tell. I watched her as she crossed the road, gracefully skirting around the cars. I watched her as she made her way to the other side of the road; my side of the road.

I’m not one who really believes in fate; or that there is a Big Guy up there watching from high above the skies; having a thousand winged creatures at His command… pfft! Just ordinary birds if you ask me. However watching this beautiful angel cross the road, made me wonder if my mother’s old tales about divinities contained some truth after all – quite ironic, it seemed.

I quickly nibbled on the corn I was having for lunch and took gulps of water from a nearby tap. I surely didn’t want to come off as basic, with my corn-breath. Thankfully, humans hardly close their taps well. I even got the water to trickle down my back as I tried to beat down my ruffled appearance, then I hurriedly caught up with her.

“Hi, I’m Sam. I noticed you’re new here, I could show you around if you don’t mind.”

She peered at me, taking in my demeanor. “Hi, I’m Helen… Nice comb you got there on your head.”

Oh yeah! My golden red comb stood firm on my head catching the light of the dusk. I lavished her with extravagant compliments. She looked good: colorful, neat beak, pristine feathers, even her claws looked pedicured.

My woes started on an unusual morning many days later. I had taken a sand-bath and set out to meet Helen at our usual meeting spot. We had been seeing each other since the day I met her outside the restaurant. I waited at our rendezvous point but she wasn’t showing up. As I strolled around hoping that she made it soon, my eyes caught suspicious movement around a car that was parked yards away. Curious, I moved towards the car, as tentatively as my two legs could carry me.

There, beneath the car, was my Helen. She lay with this arrrghh – that cocky bastard. The sight of Helen mating with another cock made me lose it. I went under the car and continuously pecked at him with my sharp beak. When I finally dragged him out to the open, he was dead. Blinded by rage, I had killed a fellow cock. That was a foul thing to do even for a fowl.

I ran out of panic. I got caught a couple of days later by the humans. I don’t know how the humans got involved. Maybe the fowlla I killed was well-connected – an associate of theirs perhaps.

Now the humans are about to carry-out my sentence, I didn’t even face trial. I see knives. I see hot water boiling on fire. I see pepper, onion and other spices. They keep referring to me as bronya akukor, whatever vile name that is. I see the smaller humans, the human-chicks, skipping with excitement. I find it quite surprising that they are gleeful at the prospect of my torture and death. I shouldn’t have caught feelings but I have no regrets.

I’m not one who really believes in fate; or that there is a big guy up there watching from high above the skies; having a thousand winged creatures at his command… pfft! This is all an unfortunate coincidence if you ask me.

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