Hobbling along the slick thin piece of rubbery piece of black - being laced with ice - that separated Greg from the ground. He peered down at his feet as they slowly slid along the icy
surface as the wind softly nudged him along. Calm breezes always created a sharp chill for Greg and always annoyed the feathers out of him. He thought the five or so years of living in the rural
neighborhood would create a sense of being use to the daily chill. Being born in the Winter for Greg ached his bones. He couldn’t wait till the Spring came but somehow he knew that being a pigeon
wouldn’t grant him much time.
“Say, would you be free later?” A high pitch Scottish accent came piercing Greg’s ears from the Earth below. Without take the time to look to see who it was. The image of a scruffy-looking
bird with a bright color of yellow that blinded Greg every time they tweeted to one another. His feathers were always in a mingle like if those feline creatures were always wanting him to be their
full-course meal for the day.
“Do you see the predicament that I currently am in?” Greg sighed and decided to look down. Taking a giant gulping dose of the fear of heights. Being a bird, he found this to be rather
ridiculous of him. You would think Greg would fear those furry beast because of their sharp claws and nasty teeth that were always stained yellow and dripping with saliva. Or the giant boxes of
different colors that rolled from one place to another. Letting out pillars of smoke day after day. No, those things just annoyed Greg and made him want to fly over each beast or box and drop his
daily feces samples so those abstracted things would know when Greg means what he chirps. Out of all those things - having a pair of beautiful blue and fluffy wings that were good for slapping the
day lights out of another bird who was a bit of a pest - he had to be afraid of heights. Flying was alright. In fact, Greg enjoyed flying from place to place until he spotted more pigeons who
wanted to make a “party” scene with the flying loaves of bread. Why those dumb creatures enjoyed human attention was beyond him.
“Yea but Greg! You got to come see this brotha!” Steve yapped away as he jumped from one spot to another in excitement about the thrill he just witnessed. His yellow fluffed out feathers were
going all over the place as if Steve was literally shooting his feathers without any aim. The only “thrill” Greg was finding around here was successfully going from one end to the thin piece of
black to the other where a nice landing platform awaited on the giant stalking pole. “Steve, what on Earth did you find now?” Knowing the history of the mad bird’s mind with finding the most
pivotal things in life that just kept blowing Greg’s mind with the sense of, I came for this?
“Well, I was free flying over the colorful brick houses over yonder and I saw a-” Steve stopped right as he was about to tell Greg this wonderful even that just occurred. Greg sighed and
looked down. Stopping mid sigh, he noticed Steve was missing all of a sudden. “Eh um! Steve? Where did you go?” Greg took one gigantic gulp and ruffled his feathers out wards. Putting them
into position, Greg leaped into the air and lightly hovered onto the black-cracked surface that shimmered from the sun’s light. A nice landing but the ground deceived Greg’s eyes as he took a quick
slide into the wall of a building near by. Ouch! His large yellow pigeon eyes squinted as he rubbed his head with one wing. Looking up at the piece of thin black material, Greg glared intensely
before he realized why he didn’t finish his task for the day.
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