Not So Out Of Reach

Chapter 36: Chicken alarm

I’m in the middle of the best sleep I’ve had in ages, curled up in the warm blankets, the peaceful quiet of the farmhouse lulling me deeper into dreamland. It’s one of those rare mornings where you wake up and everything feels… just right. Until I feel something strange. A presence.

I blink my eyes open slowly, adjusting to the soft morning light filtering through the curtains. That’s when I see it. A chicken. A real chicken. Just standing there, right next to my bed, staring at me like it owns the place.

I freeze, unsure if I’m still dreaming or if I’ve somehow wandered into an episode of The Twilight Zone. Its beady little eyes are locked on mine, and for a second, we just stare at each other in utter confusion.

Then, instinct kicks in.

“AHHHH!” I scream, throwing the blankets off me and scrambling to the far side of the bed. The chicken doesn’t even flinch. It just flaps its wings once and lets out a halfhearted cluck, like I’m the one being unreasonable.

The door flies open, and Alex rushes in, clearly alarmed by the screaming. “Winnie! What’s going on?!”

“There’s a—there’s a—” I’m pointing wildly at the chicken, trying to form coherent words.

He looks around the room, confused for a second, until his eyes land on the chicken standing beside my bed. His face goes from concern to barely suppressed laughter in about two seconds.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” he says, chuckling as he crosses his arms. “You screamed because of a chicken?”

I gape at him. “Of course I screamed! There’s a chicken in my room, Alex! A chicken! This is not normal!”

He steps forward, and the chicken just calmly watches him, like this is the most natural thing in the world. Alex lets out a full-blown laugh now, his shoulders shaking as he picks up the bird.

“Well, it looks like you’ve made a new friend,” he says, grinning at me over the chicken’s feathery head. “Meet your morning alarm.”

I groan, burying my face in my hands. “This is not how I imagined my morning would go. At all.”

Alex is still laughing as he walks to the door with the chicken in his arms, like this happens every day. “Come on, Winnie, you’ve got to admit, this is kind of hilarious.”

I glare at him, but there’s no real heat behind it. “No. No, it’s not. You’re just enjoying this way too much.”

He smirks. “Oh, I definitely am.”

As he walks out with the chicken, I shake my head, flopping back onto the bed. Only in this farmhouse would I wake up to a chicken as my alarm clock. I mean, seriously—who does that happen to?

A few minutes later, Alex comes back, still grinning. “Your room is officially chicken-free now, just so you know.”

“Thank you,” I say dramatically, rolling my eyes. “I feel so much safer.”

He laughs again, leaning against the doorframe. “Hey, at least it wasn’t a cow or something.”

I throw a pillow at him. “Get out!”

Alex dodges the pillow with ease, still chuckling as he closes the door behind him. “Alright, alright. But seriously, if you want a rooster to wake you up tomorrow, just let me know.”

I groan again, burying my face in the blankets, but I can’t help the small smile creeping onto my face. It’s ridiculous, sure, but maybe I’ll look back on this one day and laugh too.

~~~~~~~~~

After the whole chicken fiasco, I decide I need a serious reset. A proper breakfast and some grocery shopping should do the trick. Besides, we really can’t survive on KFC alone for the rest of our stay here. So, Alex and I head out to the local shop that we spotted on our way in yesterday.

The store is tiny, like something out of an old movie, with weathered wooden walls and shelves packed with every odd thing you could imagine. There’s a faint scent of spices and fresh bread in the air, and it’s a cozy kind of place, with a hand-painted sign that reads Margie's Grocer hanging above the entrance.

“Alright, let’s not forget the essentials,” I say, grabbing a basket and handing one to Alex.

“Right, essentials,” he echoes, but I can already see him eyeing a shelf full of snacks.

We start by picking up some veggies—potatoes, carrots, onions, the basics for cooking. Then we grab a couple of fruits: apples, bananas, and a small pack of strawberries that looks way too tempting. Alex throws in some bacon and eggs for breakfast tomorrow, and I add some pasta and sauce for a proper dinner tonight. A bottle of olive oil, some spices, bread, and cheese soon join the mix.

“So, do we really need this?” Alex holds up a bag of marshmallows, grinning mischievously.

“For s’mores,” I say with mock seriousness, taking the bag from him and adding it to the basket. “Obviously.”

We move around the store, filling our baskets with more supplies—milk, cereal, a couple of cans of beans, rice, and some frozen chicken (no relation to my earlier visitor, I hope). I even sneak in some chocolate bars when Alex isn’t looking. By the time we’re done, we’ve got enough to last us for a while.

We make our way to the counter where Margie, the store owner, is standing. She’s an older woman with a warm smile and kind eyes that seem to sparkle with mischief. Her gray hair is pulled into a loose bun, and she’s wearing a flowery apron that matches the old-fashioned vibe of the store.

“Well, aren’t you two the cutest couple?” she says, eyeing the two of us as she starts ringing up our items.

I feel my cheeks heat up instantly. “Oh, we’re not—” I start, but Alex cuts in with a grin.

“Thank you,” he says smoothly, shooting me a wink.

I give him a look, but he just laughs under his breath, clearly enjoying this more than he should. Margie seems unfazed by my flustered state and continues scanning our groceries with practiced ease.

“I don’t see many young folks around here anymore,” she says, her voice friendly. “Especially not a cute interracial couple like you two. It’s nice to see. Love is love, isn’t it?”

“Uh, yeah,” I mumble, glancing at Alex, who seems entirely too comfortable with this situation. He just shrugs, giving me a teasing smile.

“Absolutely,” Alex says, leaning casually against the counter. “Love is love.”

I can’t help but roll my eyes at him, but Margie just chuckles and hands us our bags. “You take care of each other, alright?” she says with a wink. “And if you need anything else, you know where to find me.”

“Thanks, Margie,” Alex says, giving her one of his signature charming smiles as we pick up our bags.

As we head out of the shop, I can still feel the warmth of my blush, but I manage to play it cool.

“You really let her believe that, huh?” I say, nudging him with my elbow.

“What can I say? I didn’t want to disappoint Margie.” He flashes me another grin, and I roll my eyes again, but deep down, I’m smiling too.

We load the groceries into the car, and as we drive back to the farmhouse, I can’t help but think that maybe Margie wasn’t so wrong. There’s something easy about being around Alex, something that feels… well, right. Even if he does let me get attacked by rogue chickens.