an extract from
The Blue Day
There were about fifty eyeless, mouthless, wingless and featherless chickens crawling over one another in his storage bucket. The conveyer belt to the right was spasmodically jutting and blood was sprayed across the nearest wall.
“I was going to shut it down, but I thought I’d better check first.” Andy said, looking into the hole adjacent to the belt.
I bent down and put my arm in, grabbing the moving limb trapped in the cog.