Chicken

She was in his arms, both of them sitting on his couch in the living room.

Their lips brush each other's, in between sweetly uttered words.

I was livid.

I was so damn pissed off. I only knew the betrayal. Especially from him.

They were oblivious to me standing some way behind them, lost in each other's embrace.

In my right hand, I held a chicken. Silent, I kept it steady with a bag over its head and it hasn't made a sound.

In the darkened room, they had not heard me until I spoke.

"I trusted you, asshole."

They whirled and eyes were wide and uncomprehending.

"You knew I love her and you went ahead and did it." I turned to her.

"I, I... no...", she began.

"I'm not angry with you. I'm angry at him," I said, gesturing at him with my free hand.

"You. I'm just disappointed with."

And then I pulled the hood of the chicken and threw it at him. I walked back to the other hens I had just outside the open door and took the whole bunch and lobbed them one-by-one towards the both of them.

He's deathly afraid of chickens.

I walked out with a smile on my face.