First Strike

My limbs tightened. I broke out of stillness and pushed upright against the rough carpet. Right in front of me sat a giant round chicken cushion, staring blankly with square eyes. It stood right in my path. I clenched my stubby arm, stepped forward, and delivered a solid thud right into its soft yellow beak. It wobbled back, absorbing the blow. My fist works. I am ready.