The First Time I Killed A Chicken, I Had a Dream About It - Part 2
So I chose to be a killer. After all, there's a first time for everything even if Mum only realised after I had goofed picking up the chicken and contemplating to finish the job. This chicken was huge, I have to say again. And it took me holding the wings while trying to find my balance from the erratic movement of the chicken, while mum held down the legs. I still had my doubts that this bird wasn't all meat though. I held the head, just as Mum had instructed, and put the knife through the neck. Without hesitating or second-guessing, I started cutting. Mum kept telling me to make sure to cut the neck all the way through till I'm past the bone so we would not have a case of Miracle Mike . As I got to the bone, I thought I had finished the task and I decided to relax. Suddenly, the chicken started shaking vigorously and there was a gush of blood flowing like water from a broken pipe. Now I could really feel the life leaving the chicken. When the shaking stopped, Mum told ...
