In 1990, I visited my brother Tim at his home base in St. Croix, USVI. He picked me and my friend up at the airport and we proceeded to drive off. It was just our group in an old, giant convertible, out on a quiet, two-lane road. We were surrounded by lush tress, where it was tough for the sun to poke through.
Suddenly, a wild chicken bolted in front of the car, running as fast as it's chicken legs could go. It was as if he was late for a job interview or was trying to catch a flight. A chicken flight, if you will.
As soon as we passed, Tim screamed out the following words in desperate and pleading tone:
WHYYYYYY DID YOU DO IT?????
I laughed.
1 comment:
I love your stories, Matt. You have a lot of talent, you should write books.
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