On departure this morning the house rooster had been drawn into the gang by the garbage collector. No wonder all the rhapsodising over the ages, and Java in particular highest-most prizing. How had that coal black tail, speckled in front and curled up, turned out just so? Earlier in the year you assumed it had been the result of a rough night’s sleep, perhaps. A shortie oddly, tubby and bulbous, the under-belly leaving little ground clearance. Mayor of a small country town come into the road to see about this stranger here intruding. The red comb & pendant wattles at his throat would give lesser creatures in the padi something to behold when his crowing sounded across the land. With the man at his cart, one could not unreasonably linger there; the chap had turned a couple times to see what was going on behind him. Immediately on arrival at the losmen the day before, a memory had come of the old champion of the dawn from the last visit. Late morning the reassuring call had been heard, when the muezzin's directly across the way had passed earlier without any kind of notice.
Yogyakarta Indonesia
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