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 when it’s cold, to find her. He talks to her like she’s a friend, telling her about his spelling tests and his thoughts on what clouds are made of. She follows him like a dog, patiently waiting by…