Flash Fiction - The Daily Life of a Chicken

The Daily Life of a Chicken

Cluck awoke with a loud crow and a drink of cool water. Today was just like any other day. He would crow and scratch at the ground til noon. After a quick lunch, he would sneak off with Peep. Peep was the prettiest pullet a rooster could ever see. Cluck loved when her silver feathers gleamed in the golden sun. But sadly they could never be. Cluck was a Delaware chicken and Peep was a Wyandotte. But they still had hope.

The coop where Cluck lived was in a little meadow next to a forest. The coop itself was huge. It housed thirty chickens and had eight nesting boxes. The chicken population is mostly Delaware chickens but there are some Wyandottes. Cluck was one of the few roosters in the bunch and he was the strongest. He didn’t enjoy having to protect the coop but he did enjoy being a hero. He was strong, smart, and selfless. Being the protector of the coop was something he couldn’t escape.

They very next day, Cluck crowed as normal but then he felt a ruffle in his feathers. Something wasn’t right. He looked at his food. It was okay. He looked at his water. It too was okay. Cluck couldn’t figure out the problem. Cluck ignored his thoughts and went about his day. It all was normal until noon. When Cluck met up with Peep, there was a rustle in a nearby bush. With a snap of a twig, a fox appeared in front of the love birds.

The fox with eyes of fire and claws as tough as iron leaped at the chickens. Its growl echoed throughout the meadow. This was was the first time Cluck believed a chicken could fly. Cluck and Peep soared like eagles to escape that fox. They warned the other chickens just in time. As Cluck entered behind Peep, the fox swooped in and took Peep. Peep, scared as a chicken, thought her life was over. Cluck, the biggest rooster in the flock, ran at the fox. He drove his sharp spurs deep into the underbelly of the fox. As the fox yelped in agony, Peep escaped. But the fox still had Cluck.

Cluck fought hard but the fox fought harder. Cluck, on his deathbed, battled with every muscle in his eight pound body. Suddenly, he threw his head between the eyes of death and ran. The fox still dazed from the mighty blow, never attacked that brave coop again. As for Cluck’s love life, Peep accepted his proposal and the coop accepted their marriage. The two cooping up together was really something to crow about!

Personal Memoir - November 25, 2010

11.25.10

Deer Hunting. It has occupied me for the majority of my life. The forest has intrigued me with its life. Deer hunting is more than my favorite hobby, it is a part of me.

My first successful deer hunt happened around November 25, 2010. I went hunting with my Dad with a 20 gauge Remington 870. My ammunition were rifled slugs, which use a chunk of metal instead of pellets. I was hunting out of a double tree stand with my dad in an opening in the woods. I wasn’t expecting to get anything but I still prayed my heart out. My Dad had told me where to aim on the deer in case a deer did cross our path.

It was getting darker and I started to lose hope. Suddenly, a young deer jumped from trees into the open. It didn’t have its spots so it was fair game. My Dad made a sling from some rope since the gun was to heavy for me to hold. I was getting ready when a much larger deer appeared. I put my gun through the rope sling and aimed. Before I was scared of the recoil but with all the adrenaline running through my body the thought of recoil didn’t bother me. When I fired, I saw the deer drop. The deer didn’t go go anywhere so tracking the deer was a cinch. A few seconds later, my Dad remembers me saying, “Ow that hurt… can I go see it!”

Since I was young, my dad dragged the deer. When we weighed the deer, its “dead” weight was one hundred sixty-one pounds. A couple of weeks later, the butcher was done with the deer. My eldest brother and I made jerky from the roasts and my Mom made hamburgers from the grinded meat. I was nine when this happened and I will forever remember that day.

Science Fiction - Life after Extinction

Life after Extinction

Jack awoke with a deep yawn. The thick November fog covered his windows. He got up from his bed and scouted the mountains. He couldn’t shake the feeling that something was out there. Watching him. Just waiting for the moment to strike. Jack shuttered the thought away. “Nothing is out there. Nothing… Nothing at all.” Jack optimistically said to himself.

But Jack knew the reality of the situation. He ignored it, telling himself that it wouldn’t happen. Jack hurried downstairs for breakfast. He gulped down his food and quickly went to school. This is where Jack’s fears came true. Something was watching him and now it was on the prowl.

The wind whistled as it darted by, striking fear into its target as it galloped across the sky. These were the Zero-Hawk missiles. They were the pride of the C.R. United. They were the reason the C.R. had no enemies. With Neo-America allies dropping one by one, Jack knew they would be next. But yet, he always forced himself to deny any thoughts of fear. His optimism would be the end of him. Luckily, his grandfather was just the opposite. Who Jack considered a bitter pessimistic would save him. Even though his grandfather died in the Battle of Antarctica twenty years back, his preparations where just 15 miles away.

A Zero-Hawk missile took two hours to hit its target. During that time, there was nothing to be done to stop it. That was what struck the fear deep into people’s mind.  The anxious wait was enough to dismantle any rebellion against the C.R. While death was creeping to their doorstep, Jack’s family drove deep into the Rocky Mountains. Jack, who still foolishly look to the government for protection, didn’t realize the weight of the situation. It all seemed unnecessary until he saw the bunker.

The bunker was an old World War IV nuclear launch site. The vacant halls still shadowed the pain caused by the 2089 misfire. The reality finally struck him deeply into fear. Jack finally saw how fragile his life was. As Jack stood in shock, a siren howled. “Jack get in the bunker! Jack, now!” Jack’s father, Rye, screamed

Jack heard the siren and he ran. He ran to the bunker trying to escape the C.R.’s wrath. He entered with a large slam behind him. His family huddled close knowing that this moment may be their last. With cries of sadness and a hefty boom, Jack was knocked into the unknown