While driving through Georgia, I passed an Eggland’s Best chicken “farm.” It smelled horrible and there were no windows on any buildings. A terrible existence. Across the street on the side of the road, a dead chicken. It had escaped. I laughed at first because oh, the irony. But then I got sad. It tasted freedom, touched grass, and saw blue skies and green trees before getting hit by a car. Even if only for fleeting seconds, its life became infinitely more beautiful than those it left behind.