There was a pigeon on my fence. It just sat there, staring.
At first, I thought it might be cute. Maybe it was lost. Maybe it needed help. Maybe we were forming a quiet, fairytale-level bond.
But no.
It stared like it knew something. Like it had seen things. Like it was silently judging me.
I stared back. It didn’t blink. I blinked.
Eventually, it flew away — probably off to stare at someone else. I don’t know what that pigeon wanted, but I respect its commitment to the vibe.
