Chickens.
Three of them. Wet and blinking up at me in utter confusion. Can you believe it? They are older than little baby chicks; they have coarse feathers mixed in with their fluff and are a bit gangly looking. They are in that awkward teenage phase if I had to guess.
I took the box home, if only to keep them from drowning. I may be a grumpy bugger, but nobody with half a heart could just leave them there. Imagine my surprise when I called my neighbour and he told me this happened a lot after Easter. It was common formonstersto purchase baby chicks for cute photos and then, as they grow, dispose of them. It’s a travesty. I cannot imagine. I hate humans.
If you could hear them even now … their sad little noises.
Christ, becoming a parent—however temporary—has made me a sad sop.
Now, obviously, I shouldn’t be taking care of anybody else when I can hardly care for myself, but I could not rightly just abandon them after what they’ve been through.
No. It’s my duty to make sure they’re okay, just until I know they have a good home to go to.
I cannot wait until Agata gets back to show her. Bet she didn’t have this in mind when she booted me. I was so excited to tell you that I haven’t actually come up with a solid plan yet.
One has escaped, so I need to rush off. Sneaky little buggers.
Yours,
DUKE of CHICKENSTON
PS: I hope you like my email address. Can you believe it wasn’t taken? I was inspired by one of my favorite writers.
PPS: You probably give your email to all your fans, but I appreciate it, nonetheless. I will try not to abuse the privilege.
* * *
FROM: [email protected]
SUBJECT: So you’re the reason they crossed the road …
Congratulations! I will not be calling you daddy. Nice try.
It was very kind of you to save those poor babies. Hopefully, you will be able to find them a good home. (You’re one of those gruff on the outside, squishy on the inside people, aren’t you?)
So. Not that I’m trying to change the topic from your most happy news but are you a daddy, er, a father, that is? Is Agata your partner? I feel like I know so little about you. I can’t help but notice you didn’t actually answer the questions in my last message. No pressure to answer any of these questions, BTW. (That means “by the way.”)
Also, the Vicarage? GROUNDS OF YOUR ESTATE?!?
I’m sorry, but if you tell me you’re a rich duke looking for a duchess, I will have to end this email exchange because I KNOW the next question will be you asking me to wire money.
It’s funny, thanks to your email address, I’ve decided to picture you only as Charles Downing. Because real celebrity accounts always say “real” before their name. Did you know that? Are you being cheeky? But then again, you didn’t know about “Stan,” so I’m still very unclear on your age.
I’m sorry if I pried too much in my last message. Obviously, you don’t have to talk about anything you don’t want to.
And truthfully, I’ve never shared this personal email with anybody. So now you know allmysecrets.
Best of luck with your chicky teenagers,
Kate
* * *
FROM: [email protected]
