When a Chicken Outsmarted a Cowardly Thief

I’m not the fearless type you imagine. Crouched behind a fence at 2:13 AM, my knees shook like a bad generator. My target wasn’t gold or cash. It was one plump fowl glowing like it owned the night. Every evening, the owner posts pictures: “My Christmas chicken.” “Organic breeder.” Temptation itself. Hunger drove me forward. Dark clothes, hushed slippers, even a quick prayer—“Lord, you know my heart.” Yet every shadow felt alive, every leaf a silent vigilante. At last, I reached the cage. One slow stretch of my hand—then panic. I pictured villagers dragging me off. I pictured my mother’s shame. And the chicken? It blinked one eye as if it saw right through me. In that moment, its wisdom crushed my resolve. I bolted, fence scratching my leg. No careful retreat, just pure flight. After eight failed attempts, perhaps I’m not cut out to be a thief. But when tomorrow night’s hunger calls and I spot another fat chicken online…who knows?

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