Chicken Didn't Cross

a rabbit and a duck were sitting on the side of the road one summer evening. in the middle of said road lay a dead chicken, hit by a car a few moments earlier. they stared in contemplation, confused about the events that had taken place.

the rabbit inched forward, confident that no car was arriving by which he could see. yet, in the very instance that he built confidence that it was safe, he returned, thinking of how the chicken must have also thought it to be safe. for, why else would the chicken have crossed unless it thought it had safe passage. the sun must've played a trick on the road, or there must been a curve or turn that cannot be seen from the side of the road. for surely, surely, the chicken could not have run out into the street had it thought it not to be safe. and if the chicken died under such pretenses, he thought, what was it that made him any different?

the duck, contrary to the rabbit, took a step back, preparing to fly over the road. yet, in the very instance that he built confidence in his flight, he stopped, thinking of how the chicken might have also thought to fly. for surely, the chicken has wings, and as such, thought it much more feasible to fly over the road than to take the risk in walking. yet, with it dead in the road, he thought, there must be some unforeseen reason not to use his gifts. maybe there is a hunter in the trees, or a predator circling higher in the skies than her can see. how else would the chicken have died had he flown, unless something distracted him to the point where had to land and be subject to the forces that dealt him dead.

so, the rabbit and the duck sat on the side of the road. the rabbit continued to inch forward and back, and the duck continued to ruffle his wings. two days passed, then three, then four. a week went by with them at the side of the road, inching forward and ruffling feathers. at no point did either of them communicate to one another. at no point did they take the chance to swallow their fear. crippled by analysis and trepidation, the two animals stayed there, forever wondering how they would ever cross the street.

a month later, a frog hopped up to the side of a road. there, he the carcasses of a rabbit and a duck. he looked on for a moment, and then looked to the road itself. in it, he saw a stain of blood on the pavement, a light brown feather compressed into the concrete. he looked to the dead bodies of the rabbit and duck, and the back to the stain of chicken blood in the road, and then back and forth again. and with a slight croak and quick gaze up the road, he hopped across, anxious about getting to the other side, but fully cognizant of what would happen if he stayed on the side of the road.