- Vol. 08
- Chapter 09
Humans are funny creatures.
Gallina moved about the grass, her claws feeling their way in between each separate strand. She'd never understood why humans insisted on covering up their claws. Probably because they're not claws at all, come to think of it. They're too soft, much too soft; five useless appendages at the end of their meaty feet. So they cover them up, like they cover up the rest of them.
She flapped her moonlight-coloured wings, ruffled up her feathers until she became a perfect ball of silver, a copy of the moon about to come out. Poor humans, completely naked; as pink as pigs. She liked pigs. They made good pillows at night, out in the hay in the barn. Humans didn't. On the rare occasion one of them slept in the barn they kept complaining about her sharp claws scratching them in their sleep, and shooed her off. They let the cat in, though. The nasty beast.
The sun was setting, its rim painted in shades of red and orange that flickered across the sky in pulsating heartbeats. She cooed at it, bid it goodnight. See you tomorrow, Sunny-Sun.
It wasn't time for her to go to bed yet, though. Not for her. First, there would be The Feast.
Every evening they came out, if the weather allowed. Always the same spot, behind the house. She picked at the collection of black coals in a neat stone circle with her beak. They were cold now, but soon there would be flames here, and a shiny metal-thingy on top. Then, males, females, and chicks carrying foodies and drinkies would emerge. At least one would be carrying a Beauty-Sounder of some sort. He, for it was usually a male, would sit next to the metal-thingy and play. En-ter-tain-ment, the humans called it. Gallina didn't know the meaning of the word, but she thought she understood.
She cocked her head at the big fake-ground they'd already put out a way back from her; it was a checkered red thing today. That's where they'd put the foodies and drinkies. If Gallina was a good clucker, they'd give her some. She still didn't know why they put out a thingy to sit on in the first place, but if it made them happy, why not?
Here they came.
There were two Beauty-Sounders today; the brown Stringy-Thingy and the Black Breather. The males carrying them assume their position by the metal-thingy, and start to play as the others take their seats on the fake-ground. Out came the drinkies (wine, they called it) and foodies (pasta), as well as some red and yellow snackies (tomatoes and cheese).
They begin to eat, and talk. Laugh. Gallina, allowed to move about as long as she didn't get in the way, curiously patrolled the area as the meal proceeds. They all kept looking at the waving paper-people in the frame placed at the centre of the fake-ground. Smiling. Crying. Caressing the dead picture.
Funny creatures, indeed.