2005-02-01 - 2:46 p.m.
Sometimes this city is so miserable and it does nothing but infect it's inhabitants with a sense of sorrow.
Maybe on any other day, when I am steeped in an Ayn Rand phase, seeing that pigeon wouldn't have affected me so much. But today, gingerly stepping around what I thought was a plastic bag, only to notice it was solid and shivering, I almost began to cry. People kept looking up from their conversations to stare at this bird, this anamoly of a creature that was defying New York City protocol.
Heirarchy dictates that the birds move for the humans, but this one just sat there. His beak was burrowed into his chest and his eyes looked wary. And sad and angry and tough.
Heartless city.
~j
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