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| Photography by Al Forbes |
Peering in the gaps they could see him, captive behind
the red barrier. He had fallen down the abyss. It hadn’t eaten him as they
thought it would, he wasn’t the next sacrifice in homage to the flightless
bipeds. They tsked and tutted on how their mothers were always warning them to
stay away from the edge and now they understood why. So busy in their
chattering they had not noticed their buddy had fallen silent – suddenly a
panic set in fearing he was dead. They peered into the darkness to nothing.
Chaotic wings flapped against the wall to no avail. They didn’t hear the
laughter from on the roof, the laughter of a pigeon with pale plumage bedecked
with grime and dust.
© J Farmer 2013
MWAHAHAHA :-D That's the way the pigeon cooks ;-)
ReplyDeleteSlowly, in a puff pastry crust with a red wine jus
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