Apollo was a young rubber chicken born in a humble coop. From the moment he hatched, he felt that the life of a chicken wasn’t for him. The coop’s routine, wandering aimlessly around the yard, waiting for feed to peck at it all felt too small for him. While the other rubber chickens were content, Apollo yearned for something more.
He couldn’t stop gazing at the sky. Since he was a chick, Apollo had always dreamed of flying! But, like all rubber chickens, his wings were small, and flight, sadly, remained a distant dream.

One rainy night, huddled in the henhouse, Apollo couldn’t fall asleep and, as usual, he was fantasizing about finally taking flight. 
When the storm ended, Apollo was still restless and, even though he knew it was forbidden at that hour, he stepped out of the henhouse to try a few jumps. He hopped around the yard, flapping his wings furiously, as usual without success, when he was drawn to a white light coming from a puddle.

With his heart racing, Apollo couldn’t believe his eyes. The moon! Right there, reflected in a puddle. Growing more curious, he stepped even closer and noticed that, besides the moon, there was something else in the puddle: another chicken, identical to him! Strangely enough, this little chicken was mirroring his every move perfectly and staring straight into his eyes. The two stared at each other intensely, without saying a word. The longer Apollo looked at this other chicken, the stronger he felt inside, until suddenly he had an epiphany: this chicken knew how to reach the moon. But who was it? And what was it doing there?       

As Apollo tried to answer these questions, he felt himself being pulled from behind: that rooster of his father had grabbed him by the tail. Apollo knew his father wanted to take him back to the henhouse, but he had no intention of moving cause he had to solve the mystery of the puddle. So, determined not to move, drove his beak into the ground like a nail. His father pulled harder, and all at once, and Apollo’s neck began to stretch slightly.  The noise brought his siblings out of the henhouse, and seeing the situation, they immediately ran to his aid. One by one, they latched onto his beak, trying to counter the mighty strength of their father. But the strength of that rooster of their father was too much for the small flock of chicks. They would never be able to overpower him. Apollo understood then that it was up to him to act, to make the difference and restore balance. What did he do? Nothing. That rebel Apollo acted in a way no one expected—he relaxed. The harder his father pulled, the more Apollo let go, and the more he relaxed, the more his body began to change. With each new tug,​ Apollo’s body stretched more and more, now almost unrecognizable.  

At one point, that rooster of his father, exhausted and astonished by Apollo’s resilience, paused. He turned and saw the remarkable transformation his son’s body had undergone. Alarmed, he let go.  For a moment, time seemed to freeze, and then, in the blink of an eye, the world became only wind. Apollo was elated; with a small motion of his wings, he adjusted his trajectory and aimed for the sky. In that moment, he realized what he had always believed deep in his heart: yes, he could fly!  Now he soared freely through the cool night air, happier than ever. He felt that every slight movement of his wings, small but now powerful, directed him wherever he wanted to go. He looked down, seeing his father and his siblings watching him in ​admiration. In the puddle, now tiny, there was no longer a chicken or the moon. He looked up at the sky: the moon was there, as always. 

 Apollo had no more doubts: soon, like that chicken, he would reach it.