Monica vs. The Chickens

The chickens here live in trees. The trees receive them happily. Monica does not.

There is one rooster who lives in the tree behind the bedroom who seems particularly confused. Monica wants to eat him.

Every morning, around 1am... and 3am... and 6am... this rooster cries and cries and cries. And so does Monica.

I laugh, smile, sleep.

"Catherine," she said this morning as she drove to work, "I need earplugs." Just then a chicken darted from the bushes and threw its feathery self in front of the wheel, forcing her to swerve and curse. "Goddam chickens are haunting me!"

tee hee. It will be a fun fight to watch.