Not only do his crows grow more desperate in yearning by the day, but there are times when Henri wakes from her midday naps to feathers in her hair or on the bed. Once, she discovers a nest, carefully constructed from the scraps of what used to be Leroy's Solar-Power-colored swim shorts.
The rule of thumb is three to four hens per rooster but when The Chicken Guy pulls up, there are eleven clucking in the back of his truck. Plus another rooster. She's not sending any of them back so she ushers them into the coop and thinks that it was meant to be filled to the brim in the first place, anyway.
There's more than enough room for a baker's dozen.
21 July — Bienen's Stall
It's not fair that Apfel was gifted an outfit and Bienen wasn't.
The initial thought rolls out like the tide. She sucks it back between her teeth with vigor. It's impolite, inconsiderate and inconsequential to look a gift horse in the mouth.
When she returns from a long ride around the property, she catches Roy's eye. Shows a little leg. Flips her hair. Winks. Blushes when he turns and around and she realizes he'd been engaged in conversation with a sibling. Flees, her hair a dark flag flapping against rolling green hills.
Early that morning, she hooks a matching two piece, reins and saddle to the door of Bienen's stall. Everything is designed by a Norwegian student whose focus is in sustainability; she wasn't accepted into the program this cycle but she hopes to apply for the next.
The unassuming ruffles flutter and wait their turn to tear into the wind.
22 July — In The Fruit Bowl
Commissioned from a self-proclaimed "furby obsessed" felt artist she'd befriended on Instagram, the product that showed up in Henri's P.O. box didn't turn out exactly how she envisioned.
She'd sent over specific PANTONE® color chips and everything. And she didn't remember asking for dicks. Still, who was she to stifle an artist's creative license?
