
Her, “Don’t be looking at me like that.”
Me, “Looking at you how?”
Her, “Like I’m City Chicken.”
Me, “I can assure you I am not considering plating you.”
Her, “I know you have eaten my kind before.”
Me, “I have consumed turkey, chicken, pheasant and duck.”
Her, “See! I knew you feasted on aviators!”
Me, “They were all farmed, to be eaten.”
Her, “And that makes a difference to you?”
Me, “You got something there, I’ll admit.”
Her, “They are still my kind.”
Me, “You have a point, maybe?”
Her, “Stop looking at me like that, I said.”
Me, “Not to worry little City Chicken, you aren’t plump enough for me.”
© Zora Zebic 2016
Lovely ending 🙂
Thanks!