[ WP ] A pigeon sat on a branch , reflecting on its existence .

He stared down at the students passing underneath him on the concrete walkway. The old woman had not come today and his stomach was uncomfortably empty. Aggitated, he cooed at the business below him. One student looked up and for a second eye contact was made over a half eaten bagel. 
 
 If he timed it right he could have snatched it, but that was not in his nature. Maybe it was for Fat Rodney but he was not a thief. He was honorable, noble, and took only what was freely offered. 
 
 He cooed again but the acne-dappled kid kept walking. Was nobility worth it? His growling stomach made him unsure as he watched a piece of pizza go by cheese dribbling down a hurrying coed's chin. Disgusting. 
 
 Then he remembered what happened yesterday..was it yesterday? He was n't really sure entirely of the passage of time and most of the time he felt like he was on the cusp of something great when he thought like this. The others thought he was crazy, pondering at length about the humans. They barely contributed to conversations beyond `` Bread? BREAD.'' 
 
 He used to have a caretaker who read from books aloud before supplying the paper for him to shit on. He never quite understood why he let them all go. He supposed it was the fragility of life.. 
 
 Oh. Right. Yesterday. *Susan*. He sighed, as much as a pigeon could sigh. She chased a woman carrying a sandwich into the road, only to be struck by an old rattling car. 
 
 Life. So fragile. What was the point? His stomach growled as a whiff of fresh hotdog wafted up into his nose holes. College kids, notorious for their bad food choices. 
 
 He decided to move to the Bread Lady's bench, maybe if he lurked she would appear. Or someone else would take pity on him and.. why was he to be pitied?! He was as noble a pigeon as they came. Educated, prized even. Yet here he was, unable to get his own food. At least the food he wanted, anyway. He was no garbage diver, no bug scrounging ruffian. 
 
 But what was there to this life of dependency? Of waiting for notice? Was thievery and foraging really any less of a life? 
 
 His introspection was quickly interrupted as two humans sipping hot drinks sat down on the bench, the bite of the cold air making them look like puffed pastries, wrapped in heavy jackets and ridiculous hats. 
 
 `` I am going to miss her, you know.. the crazy pigeon lady that sat here.'' 
 
 `` She was fecking nuts. Why?'' 
 
 `` It's just going to be weird. She was always here. So were they -- hey there's one on that armrest there behind you.'' 
 
 They were talking about me. Or they would n't have looked..but what else were they saying? Something about pigeons or ribbons. I was n't sure. 
 
 `` Do you think he knows?'' 
 
 `` Knows what?'' 
 
 `` That she is dead, dumbass. Why else would he be here?'' 
 
 `` Doubt it. He is just a stupid bird.'' 
 
 He was not. In that moment, he understood everything and the weight of grief crushed him like nothing he had ever felt. Not even Susan gave him this much pause. 
 
 Okay, it was really the weight of hunger as he flew off miserably, wondering what it all meant.
