Do chickens have lips? That was all that was typed on a sheet
of paper, left lying on the seat of the train. What a stupid question! Chickens
have beaks, never liked birds of any description because they peck. Feeding
ducks always held me in dread, children offering up stale bread. I imagined
torn digits and blood squirting out big time, mothers fainting and fathers
beating off the predators.
I open up my lap top and type in the three words. Varieties
of fowl appear and a detailed description of beaks and a positive no to lips.
One definition is an indirect way of saying no like is the pope catholic or do
camels cross deserts are for yes.
I look up scanning the faces of my usual companions.
Creatures of habit we all seem to want to sit in the same seats at the same
table. Miserable Mike who always scowls, Arty Farty Pamela reading the galley
leaflets with a dreamy expression all over her pale face and Gorgeous Greg who
seems to be asleep the entire journey and miraculously wakes up seconds before
his stop. Made up names of course we’ve never spoken to each other. Wonder what
they call me Aloof Adele or Efficient Elaine? I pride myself on my sharp
business suits, severe hair style and designer briefcase.
I watch her read the note. Will it start a conversation? She’s
so beautiful but has eyes only for the bloke that sleeps all the time. He has
perfect symmetry. Girls appreciate that. Thought I might invite her to the
Chicken Festival. No chickens just great music, great food and great company. Start
of the Summer Equinox, the earth’s axis tilting like she tilting mine. Would it
hurt to start a conversation with her? Do Chickens have lips?
Just a fabulous piece to escape from the here and now
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