“I thought we were supposed to be flying south,” he said from behind. “Yeah,” the one in the middle chimed in. “South. They all said south.” “We’re not going south.…
There are millions of me. Literally, in this city there are over a million of me. People chase me away as if I’m just part of the garbage that lines…
Like a missile or a crashing plane, the pigeon dive-bombed my patio. I carefully crept to the sliding glass door and saw the gray bird stone still. I banged on…