Unfortunate Sense Memory

An unfortunate instance of sense memory. Some kind of mundane muse overtook me today and forced my hand into purchasing a “whole young chicken” on the way to the trader joe’s check out.

I got home and, washing it in the sink, I placed the entire chicken in my right palm—washing it with my left. The specific weight, feeling, and gravity of the chicken felt exactly the same as holding my pet cat, Socks.

The chicken was delicious but the spiritual distress lingers.