Thursday, February 6, 2020

Last Shot


On the run for days if not weeks the gangster of a bird only had one shot left. It had to vanish. Go rogue and not leave even a hint of its past. Pretend to be a normal chicken. Just slide into a farm and eventually become a pot pie.

Or it could stand tall, an idol for all. It still had a bullet. Going against the law in one last blaze of glory.

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