And so the other pigeons told me to go somewhere, and I went there, and there was nothing. Loads and loads of nothing in all directions, as far as my eye could spy. I wondered what I was supposed to be doing there. I guess I should know, because the other pigeons go here, and they figure it out. But all I saw was nothing. Until I looked up.
There it was. Majestic, blindingly white, otherworldly smooth, and cutting through the sky like a hawk’s claw. So I flapped up and joined it, best I could. Seemed like a better place to be than some nowhere full of nothing.
There I was, a pigeon, soaring amongst seagulls. Of course all this was just a dream and I knew it. But even in the dream, it seemed like a dream. The gulls let me be, because I was harmless and somewhat amusing. I tried to race them and of course lost. I lost time and time again. But every time, I lost a little less. They didn’t notice. I would always be just a pigeon and they, they were seagulls. They had circled the globe and seen all the seas, not just the big seven. There was no type of fish or food they hadn’t tasted.
My family was pigeon. My city was pigeon. My world was pigeon. Yet here I was. Feather after feather was torn from my wings as I attempted their acrobatics. I howled through the sky in a cork screw, then tore a double flip and raced full-circle. Bemusedly the gulls watched. Was it just me, or did one or two sets of eyes sparkle with a mild admiration ? I wasn’t sure and I couldn’t care.
Then the gulls suddenly all were hungry and dove down. Screeching and yelling, they plundered what humankind had thrown away and fought amongst themselves. I was left, bewildered, but not for long. As they fought for their scraps, I made one turn over the crowd and dropped my opinion of them. Then I climbed up, towards the sun, with what little feathers I still had. I didn’t care about anything anymore. The sky was mine now.
