There was once a fox, who ate a chicken. But it wasn't just any chicken.
It was a chicken who was cursed by magic.
A chicken that passed down this curse to anything it touches.
A chicken that kills.
Nobody, nothing touched it, even a millimeter of its feathers.
The chicken was sad.
But the fox was so naive, so clueless. It didn't care.
So the fox climbed into the coop where the fresh smell of the cursed chicken lived.
"Oh, has somebody finally visited me?" Said the chicken, relived from all the depression it seems to carry.
"Yes, and I will eat you till the only left is the remnants of your feathers!" Said the hungry, mischievous fox, licking it's lips.
"Oh please, even if you eat me, your teeth will touch the cursed feathers of mine. You will die in the smallest touch anyways." The chicken sighed.
The fox laughed, "Are you trying to scare me? There are no such things as cursed feathers!"
"Oh, well then. Put me out of my lonely misery and eat me." The chicken accepted its fate.
So then the fox ate the chicken with no hesitation.
The fox didn't die, but what died is the happiness the fox used to have.
"So maybe there are such things as cursed feathers."
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Stress Reliever Stories/Poems (Or just for fun)
Poesíathis is where I type in poems/stories to relive stress/dread/other pressuring feelings. Trigger Warning!: Topics such as trauma, self-harm, disease, etc will be discussed (but not all stories will be like this)
