A new game

Annette von Droste-Hülsthoff:

"Das Huhn auf der Straße

O schaurig über die Straße zu gehn,

Wenn es wimmelt vom Heiderauche,

Sich wie Phantome die Dünste drehn

Und die Ranke häkelt am Strauche.

How dreadful it is to go across the street

When it is teeming with will o' the wisps

And mists are whirling like phantoms

As brambles are hooking on bushes"

                     Her coop is across the road though;

                     She will not see me crossing here

                     To watch her brood fill up with dough."

Stephen King :

He limped across the pen, his mangled beak showing the efforts of his survival. Inside his head, a buzzing, flashes of red fur, the dead eyes of 'the fox'. He leapt at the delusions each time, crashing down upon the hard surface twisting a wing, discarding feathers and flesh. He could see the curb just over the horizon. "Freedom...freedom" were the last thoughts as the taxi's tire squeezed it's tiny brain out through its eyes and beak.