“I just can’t imagine what I want to be doing in three to five years!” she said as Henrietta scratched at some scratch.
I guess I should have said I wanted to still be working for his company in three to five years.”“Doesn’t matter, cluck,” said Henrietta.Claire, normally a pleasant person, was in a foul mood. She petted Henrietta. Henrietta stooped her body to flatten her soft feathery back. It felt better that way when someone petted her.“What a jerk. As if I would want to be scoring psychological profiles for the next five years. Myers-Briggs my ass,” said Claire.She picked up some scratch and let Henrietta eat out of her hand. Claire dug her toes into the straw, dirt, wood shavings and chicken shit that covered the floor of the coop. She kicked it about here and there, drawing shapes unconsciously. Henrietta finished the scratch in Claire’s hand and moved to the corner of the coop to scratch and peck a little more.“Are you moving, (peck) out here (peck) with me?” asked Henrietta.“Henrietta, you have such a nice house. You got a bed, food, a ladder and most important of all, it isn’t my parents’ house.”“Yes, (peck) but I don’t think (peck) that you would want (peck) to go to the bathroom (peck) on your floor (peck). Besides (peck) it is in (scratch) your parent’s (peck) backyard.”
Claire is one of my favorite characters to write about because she has a way with chickens and birds. There is also palpable energy to what she does. She is not shy or a wall flower. Sometimes she is a little abrupt, argumentative and snippy, but you always know where you stand with her.
The story of Claire will be published on November 9, 2012 at www.bookofbartholomew.com.