Hatching
It was called hatching
But it was nothing like a birthday
A chick was born
the builder
open eyes
With legs that are earlier than others
They learned to stand
From the very beginning
It was created to kill
Not by nature
According to the program
His name was Ayat
Names always
before John
are consumed
They left the verse
Next to chickens and roosters
inside a shop
That smell of wet feathers
and gave iron
assumed
wing
It means shelter
But chickens and roosters
They were not custodians
with regular tips
practiced
They hit him in the stomach.
the butcher
was watching
His knife was by his hand
But he was in no hurry
here
everything
He knew his way
When the tips are done
The butcher came forward
silently
unexplained
Like someone who
Executes the command
Not the crime
Ayat
It was still hot
who was taken away
inside the pond
water
It turned red first
next
transparent
always
That's how it happens
A few days later
There was no more name
chicken
had become
step by step
of the cycle
the butcher
the pieces
prepared
wash
count
and threw
in a pot
that to satiate
many
It was years
It was boiling
The shop remained open
Chickens and roosters
in place
Fresh chickens
they arrived
#behnammohtarami #
short story