Earlier that morning the farmers daughter had inadvertently left the gate to the yard open as she was preoccupied by her worry over a maths test set for that day. She hadn’t studied for the test as she was still deeply distressed over her fathers recent heart attack. This, coupled with the added burden of household chores now delegated to her because her mother was out trying to get the west field prepared for sowing, had made her quite forgetful and distracted of late.
Whilst several chickens escaped, only one strayed so far that it actually encountered the road facing the farm. After crossing the road and gorging itself in a soy-bean crop, the chicken was struck by a furniture removers van as it attempted to make its way home.
Several hours later the dead chicken was spotted by a Community Mental Health Worker who was doing his bi-weekly rural clinic run. The chicken, being a bantam caught the eye of the Mental Health worker, who was a keen trout fisherman.
“Cool” thought the mental health worker- “those feathers will make for excellent trout flies”. He stopped and plucked a handful of the most iridescent blue, green and orange feathers and placed them in an envelope. He rolled himself a cigarette, sat on the trunk of his car and admired the clouds. “God, I love this job”, he muttered to no one in particular.
