And our First Post...

Here is one of the original Dead Chicken Society postings, submitted by Toben, in December 2001. Revel in the memories of grave-yards and playgrounds past!

"Pick up your toys," the old woman said to the old man.The old woman really did have blue hair."Pick up your toys, old man," the old woman said."You really have blue hair" said the old man.
The tin cowboy smiled chipped paint crooked gun missing an arm smile."Pick up your toys!" Her voice was iron Uncle Sam clack flipping a woodennickel into its broad mouth. Clack.
He took more toys out of the box with veined hands. The hands faded intodust on a flier for the carnival eighty years ago. The mottled hands becamereal giraffes, his voice became the moustache of a strong-man.
"Pick up your toys, don't you fade into that dust!" Said the old woman in avoice that became crisp new fliers along railroad tracks. The old womanwas gone like a train, the emptiness in the attic followed her like the silencefollows a train. The people shuffled about the platform wondering if therereally ever was a train or if it was still coming. They quietly looked at theirwatches and they looked down the quiet track.
Dust spread its toys over the old man's body, and the old woman didn'tpick them up.