She didn’t reach all the way to the bush. Ongle as far as her Aunt Mabel’s gungo peas patch. The rankness of the raw hen flesh was making her mouth water. She managed to push her way in among the waist-high plants before hunger pangs dropped her to her knees and she put the cage to her mouth and sucked salty porridge-thick blood from the chicken carcass like she was sucking on a sweetie. She pried open one corner of the cage, stuck both hands inside, and pulled the body out. She gnawed on raw flesh, paying no mind to the feathers in her mouth. She swallowed them down and all.
