The solar flare was massive and far more powerful than anyone expected. Earth’s magnetic field protected it as usual, but intense strips of radiation slipped through at a few small locations. In a farm outside Davenport, Iowa, small but critical changes developed.
Foxes, Max and Maury, watched the farm from a distance. “I’m tellin’ you,” said Max. “The farmer hasn’t been there in weeks! The dogs are gone too.”
“No way…” said Maury.
“Way!” Max quivered with excitement. “Best of all, the chicken coop is unlocked!”
“For reals?”
“Yep. Dinner is served!”
The foxes sneaked onto the farm, encountering no opposition. Though the presence of stripped skeletons in the yard seemed odd. They sneaked to the chicken coop. The door opened easily, and the two slipped in.
Maury grinned at Max. This was a dream come true.
Nearby, one carnivorous chicken grinned at the other carnivorous chicken. “I told you they’d come,” it whispered. “Dinner is served!”
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Written for Sunday Photo Fiction: https://sundayphotofictioner.wordpress.com/2017/10/01/sunday-photo-fiction-october-1st-2017/
I saw that one coming but it was still fun.
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Glad you still enjoyed it. Thank James!
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Nice turning of the tables. About time the chickens got some revenge on the foxes.
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It gives new meaning to “fox in the hen house” eh? Thanks Iain!
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And judging by the skeletons, also on the farmer and his dogs.
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Haha! You are exactly right! The farmer never left, he just got really, really thin. 😉
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I’ve gotten used to your brand of wit, so I knew that there was something happening with the chicken. Good one, EA.
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Yep. Whenever something seems too easy, that’s when the alarm bells should go off. 😉 Thanks so much!
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What a great story! Thanks for it!
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My pleasure, and thank you very much! 🙂
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What a worrying story, Hitchcock would have loved it.
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Haha! Well chickens are “Birds” after all. 😉
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They really should have paid more attention to the stripped skeletons. Me, that’s something I would have noticed, no matter how hungry I was. 😉
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I wondered if anyone would notice that. I’m not surprised you caught it. Yeah, noticing signs like that can be the difference life and…dinner. 😉 Thanks much Joy!
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That’s how I’ve avoided becoming mutant monster dinner up to this point: my keen observational powers. 😉
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Haha! Me too. Once I walked into an abandoned warehouse. These large eggs surrounded by fog told me “something’s very wrong here.” 😉
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Oh boy…this makes me glad we sold our poultry farm (3,000 chickens) when I was a kid 😀
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And that’s why you’re alive to write today. Good thinking! 😉 Thanks Lyn!
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Cleverly horrible, Eric
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Thanks much, CE! 🙂
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I really enjoyed this, especially the way the foxes spoke. It was obvious something bad was coming up, but I only guessed what at the very last minute.
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Glad to hear that. I’m glad the suspense lasted long enough too. Thanks very much! 🙂
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No way. What if the ghosts of dinners past popped up and demanded retribution? What would we do?
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I’m pretty sure I’d run very, very fast! 😉
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That’s going a little further than Chicken Run. 😉 Great story!
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Haha! Thanks very much! 🙂
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Ha! Great twist. I fear the foxes are in for some trouble.
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Big Trouble in Little Chickenville! They better hope their feet don’t fail them now. 😉 Thanks much!
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Sounds like the farmer wass bone idle. Dead centre of town though. Good story Eric.
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Haha! He didn’t have the stomach to do any more. 😉 Thanks Al! 🙂
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