Am I a chicken?

This is my third week of educational leave and I have only written one e-mail to my professor telling her about what I pretend to do in my thesis. She answered this morning saying she liked my idea. I did want that to be today´s only achievement, so I immediately headed to the library to start working on the first chapter.

By the way, I own no laptop, so I borrowed one to write my thesis.

The library where I am right now offers free wireless internet, but since I am not good with computers, I cannot connect this laptop to the World Wide Web (it is not my fault that this computer has windows vista…yikes!). And even though my recently Galaxy III works again (the damage caused in the toilette incident was repaired), I forgot the USB cable home, so I cannot download the Universal Declaration of Human Rights and send it to my laptop. I know…apple users may probably be laughing about this right now.

So, instead of working on my PhD thesis, I will tell you a scary story

My sister and I always make fun of my brother because he is afraid of birds. We would understand his fear if he would have seen Hitchcock´s “the birds” when he was a little boy, but this is not the case. The bird that Tomás fears the most is the chicken.

Some days ago, I went to a very good restaurant, but more than a restaurant, it is a farm where two people cook. These two guys grow the products they use in their restaurant. So, they produce meat, eggs, vegetables and fruits to make their own chutneys, main courses, bread, desserts and even liquors.

This restaurant serves food outside.

There were five guests that day (they only serve lunch twice a week) and this day only one of us had bad luck…

We were enjoying a fabulous cilantro-mayonnaise on freshly baked bread (outdoor wood-oven!) when I felt something painful on my right elbow. I screamed immediately and as I turned my head, I saw the beak of a horrible and giant flying hen. I don´t know where she came from, but she flew to furiously attack me. After thinking about it, I know that the only reason for this attack was violence. This was the most brutal chicken I ever saw.

Since that very moment, I share with my brother the fear of birds…the fear of chickens…

do you also see the evil in this bird?

P.S. I am not telling the name of that wonderful restaurant, because the owner bought my silence with a bottle of home-made limoncello.

I use this limoncello to forget that day