
HE WOULDN’T LET GO OF THE CHICKEN—AND I DIDN’T HAVE THE HEART TO TELL HIM WHY SHE WAS MISSING YESTERDAY
She’s not just a chicken. She’s his chicken. Every morning before school, he runs outside barefoot—even in the cold—to find her. He talks to her like she’s a classmate, tells her about spelling tests and what he thinks clouds are made of. She follows him like a dog. Waits by the porch until he gets…