Disclaimer: this little snippet of a story is from a writing exercise in Fiction called ‘Storyspine’. It began with a small sparrow whose siblings pushed it out of the nest, then it got fat eating all the worms before anyone else.
In hindsight, it was my own hubris that caused my death. I revelled in my victory over my siblings, gobbling down any worm that popped its head to the surface before any others could grab it. But my greed had a price. I ballooned beyond my tiny bird body into a form much like a chicken in girth. My stick-thin legs struggled to support my weight and I was forced to use my wings to push myself around. And with the weight came an insatiable hunger. I needed every worm, every bug that entered my sight, so much so that I became blinded by all else. This is how a fox came upon me. I was heaving myself towards my delectable prize and he simply gave a sniff, then picked me up in his jaws and wandered away. The last thing I saw was the quiver of the fox’s jaw as it struggled to swallow me whole.