Pigeon Grandpa

By Sara Xibos

The man looked down at his watch.

“They should be here in a minute,” he thought “little bastards.”

Then all of sudden a flocks of grimey smoke colored pigeons sat at the old man’s feet. He

reached for the bag next to him and started to throw bits of bread at the birds.

“Good afternoon, everyone” he spoke sweetly.

Some of the pigeons flew onto his arms, lap and bench around him.

“Settle down, everyone. I made sure to bring enough” the man said smiling.

More pigeons flew onto him.

“C’mon, get off me” the old man said moving his arms around, “sit on the ground”.

He kept throwing bread from the bag and more pigeons flew onto his lap.

“Get away!” the old mawn shouted.

He moved his arms around and tried to shoo the pigeons off his lap. The old man reached into his

bag of bread to grab nothing. The pigeons stared at him and he froze. More birds flew onto him

and he was breadless.

“Come on, let’s be reasonable” he muttered.

He tried to get up but the pigeons were holding him down. Another pigeon flew onto the top of

his head and stared down at him.

The old man gasped “Eugene? I thought I saw the last of you eleven years ago.”

Eugene shook his head at the old man.

“Do what you must, Eugene” the old man said sternly “after all these years you’ve won.”

Eugene sat still for a second before he looked to other pigeons and nodded. At that moment the

old man was pierced by thousands of beaks.

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