The Weeping Chair by Donald Ward

Author:Donald Ward
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: FIC029000, FIC016000, FIC025000
ISBN: 9781927068236
Publisher: Thistledown Press
Published: 2012-04-03T00:00:00+00:00

THE LADIES OF HIS FLOCK

FOR ELI FROST, THERE WAS A moral gulf between an egg farmer and a chicken farmer. He felt it keenly when someone failed to grasp the distinction, for he was fond of the ladies of his flock and would never have put one of them to death simply to satisfy human hunger. A sleek city man with a voice as smooth as carded wool had once approached him with the proposition that free-range hens were fetching premium prices in the urban market and Eli would be smart to cash in on it. Eli could not conceal his outrage.

“No need to blow a gasket,” the man soothed, changing tactics. “Free-range eggs might be just as profitable. We just need to upgrade your operation,” he said, casting a critical eye over the yard, the coop, the chickens scratching in the dirt. “Expand. Bring in more lights. We’ll soon have them laying like crazed whores.”

Eli saw him off the property before the chickens overheard. Hens had tear ducts, and he was sure they could cry. A contented hen, on the other hand, one who was secure in the pecking order, would lay an egg every day or two for years, with time off to moult and regain her strength. She enjoyed company, but she did not like to be crowded. When she reached a certain age she was retired humanely and given to the nearby monastery to make soup for the hungry poor.

Eli Frost was a lean man in a cruel climate. The seasons had pursued him to an uncertain middle age. His skin was creased and permanently tanned, like old leather. His chest was concave, following the curve of his spine, and his long legs moved like sticks below his torso, a size-twelve boot fastened securely at the end of each. His face was narrow, with deep-set dark eyes and a hooked nose whose sunburnt tip aspired to touch the jut of his chin. Summer or winter, he was rarely seen without his broad-brimmed felt hat, black as a shadow. He was a figure to incite fear in children and mockery among their elders, which was one reason he lived without human companionship on his solitary ten acres. Another reason was that no one loved him. The only child of an unwed mother, he had no relatives that he knew of. His mother was buried in a churchyard he had not visited for years, and he had never known his father. In many ways, he was ideally suited to be abducted by aliens on a sultry summer night.

It was a night so hot and still you could hear an angel weep behind the stars. Unable to sleep, Eli had left his narrow bed in his claustrophobic little house and wandered into the yard in the boxer shorts he habitually slept in. He slipped on his hat and boots but did not bother to dress. Small creatures ran on silent feet, their heartbeats loud in their ears. An owl defended the darkness above, a coyote the shadows below.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.