Cold rain spills down all day. Huddled against the sky, pigeons brood into their feathers. Grayness to darkness to infinity. Crowded beside blank-faced strangers on the Five-Thirty-Two, traveling home. Cold rain.
Actually, I used to see those pitiful pigeons all lined up, huddled against the rain, in the employee parking ramp where I used to work. They looked miserable and pathetic.
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Comments: 23
Some days are just that way!
Actually, I used to see those pitiful pigeons all lined up, huddled against the rain, in the employee parking ramp where I used to work. They looked miserable and pathetic.