To Witness the Death of a Pigeon by @ewfeez


“Yeah, I saw it all go down. I’m walking and here comes this white van. Then I see this pigeon, and everything’s slow motion. The engine’s whir: Vrrrrrrooooommmmm. The flapping, Flllaaaaaaap, fllllaaaaaap, floooooooop. The impact: Prrrssshhhhhhtttttmmmmllllllooof. The image is gonna stay with me. I may start drinking.”

“What a scene. Red feathers. Floating feathers. A million feathers everywhere. Screaming children covered in bloody feathers. Like someone exploded a down pillow with a ketchup bomb. I didn’t see it firsthand, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“The details are foggy. It was 12:15, I’m sure of that much. The Diocese bells had just finished ringing, giving the whole scene a gothic feel. There’s this pigeon sauntering about, looking for a SunChip or whatever; then the blinding white blur of the van, eerily accentuated by a serenely floating plume of feathery whitish grey detritus. And all I could think at that moment was, ‘It tolls for thee, little pigeon.’”

“I didn’t see it, but I know one thing: I know I didn’t hear brakes. No screech. Just boom. Know who that driver reminds me of? Ever heard of a guy named Ted Bundy? He’ll kill again, mark my word. He’ll kill again and again and again.”  

“Oh the pigeon was definitely at fault. He made one of those pigeon jumps – you know the one I’m talking about? You get close to a group of ‘em and they sorta do this half-flying thing, then land again and continue to peck. Like that, except he just jump-flew right in front of the van. Now what do you suppose about that? If I had to guess I’d say birdicide.”

“Good riddance. Daddy always said, ‘Pigeons are just flying rats.’ Yeah, dad? I bet a flying rat woulda jumped out of the way! I hate my dad!”

“I yelled, ‘Watch out!,’ but I guess he didn’t hear me. Oh, I should have been louder! I know I shouldn’t blame myself, but…God forgive me my anemic vocal chords!”

“What’s a crazy bird doing in the street? Seemed as if he wanted to get hit. I mean, he looked pretty forlorn. It happens to the best of us. Happened to Nick Drake, and he was a seminal folk genius.”

“In my 95 years, I never saw anything so spiteful. You can’t be too careful in these troubled times. In my day it was fisticuffs, but now…vehicular pigeon slaughter! A life obliterated in the blink of an eye! And for what? Over a parking spot? It ain’t right.”

“The only thing I can liken this to is the War of 1812. Replace the men and horses with pigeons and vans and there you have it. Just awful.”

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