Some chicken fiction for your enjoyment...

I got bored tonight and wrote the start of a little something about a chicken... Some day, I'd like to write my own novel, probably for young people, but I doubt I'm skilled enough or ready enough yet. Do enjoy, though... And perhaps if enough people like it, I'll add more.
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I.
At first, there was only the darkness.

Then, a spark of life.

Alone in a dreamlike state, where time and space and light yet meant nothing to him, he drifted aimlessly, floating in the innerspace of his confinement. He felt peace and warmth, though he didn’t yet have words to describe those two sensations. Wisps of thought came and went, arriving as carelessly as they departed…

…until one day, when he was suddenly, unexpectedly AWARE.

The recognition of being filled his mind, and in reaction, he blinked his eyes in the darkness. The sensation of blinking – of feeling his own body move – surprised him, and he struggled suddenly. He brushed against a hard surface, and for the first time in his very short existence he realized the presence of something other than himself. With curiosity as innate to his being as breathing, he moved his body again. This time, he paid closer attention to when and where the movements happened, and experimented with stretching and moving various parts of himself as he reached out.

The hard surface surrounded him on all sides, and didn’t seem to move as he did. Not knowing the difference between “alive” and “not-alive,” he could not make sense of what he felt, nor could he imagine what it might be. In his universe, he, the darkness, and the hard surface were all that existed. Not knowing any other, this didn’t worry him, and he was at peace.

The burst of energy required to complete this brief exploration was enough to exhaust his young body. In the warmth and darkness, he succumbed to sleep once more.

II.

He awoke, for the first time in his life feeling cramped and uncomfortable. Pain was new to him, and he was startled and afraid. A sound escaped him. Not knowing it was he that produced the noise, he struggled once again, pushing his body against the hard surface, suddenly, instinctively feeling the urge to escape. But to where…?

Breathing heavily, worn from the struggle, he closed his eyes again.

III.
He awoke again to new sensations. He was still uncomfortable, but as he lay still in the darkness he realized that it was the hard surface that was causing his discomfort. The space was now much too small for him. Not understanding growth or change, he felt another quick burst of fear. How could this have happened? Again, he made a small sound. In his pensive mood, he connected the sound that had frightened him earlier to his own voice. The sound amused him, and distracted him from his fears and his discomfort. He tried out the sound again.

And again.
And again.

And something answered.

Shocked, he struggled desperately against the hard surface, again feeling the instinctive urge to escape. He pushed and pushed and pushed until he collapsed into sleep.

IV.
The “something” woke him.

“Hello…? Hello in there? Are you doing alright?”

He blinked his eyes. Language was instinctive to his kind, though the experience of hearing and understanding left him bewildered for a moment. Knowing somehow that a response of some sort was necessary, he tried out his sound again.

“Oh! I wondered if you were awake,” the “something” continued brightly, “Mother left me to watch the nest for a while. She’ll be back shortly.”

He blinked again in the darkness, confused, as the “something” continued its chatter. Although he understood that the words should mean something to him, he had no experience with such concepts as “mother” or “nest” (or “a while” or “shortly,” for that matter). Summoning his courage, he made his first attempt at communication.

“C-can… C-an… Can you…?” This was difficult.

“Well, what? Spit it out, now. Mother will be back soon, and once she gets back on the nest we won’t be able to talk.”

“Talking… Is that…? Is that what we’re doing right now?”

“But of course it is!” The other’s voice dropped in volume a little, as if it didn’t want him to hear. “I didn’t realize speaking to chicks in the egg was so exasperating! Mother thinks I’ll be ready to go broody any time soon, but after an experience like this, I’m not sure I’d be able to survive the hatch!” Then, the voice raised, addressing him once again. “Look, when are you coming out?”

“Coming out?”

“It can’t be comfortable in there. You can’t even see your own feet! Besides, almost all your sisters and brothers have hatched. You’re one of the last ones, and Mother’s getting a bit worried.”

“In” and “out” were concepts he was just beginning to make sense of as the other spoke to him. He was “in,” inside this hard, cramped place, and there were others “out,” including the creature he was speaking with. Curiosity overcame him, and he asked, “Well, how do I get out?”

The other made a sound that couldn’t be put into words, then said, “No wonder you’re one of the last to hatch! I can’t believe you haven’t figured this out yet! Use your beak, silly!”

---TO BE CONTINUED---