A little rain makes the landscape greener. I look at the 20-feet tall pigeon sitting outside the glass window. It’s eyeball emerald studded watches brainlessly. Am I registered as an enemy? I wish a door was provided for an escape. But now I have to sit here under eternal watch. Its wings almost metallic. I walk to the window. It beats its paw on the glass, probably denying communication. I bite into an apple and sit in a chair. It’s raining again. The tree spread out their branches to absorb as much as they can. I finish eating and watch the pigeon. It is now looking away from me. Acknowledging the impossibility of an escape, I put my head down on top of the table and wait to run out of time. I wake up quite later. It’s still evening. A clock hangs but it faces the other side. I find myself in my chair with an empty plate on the table. I look towards the window. It’s clear. Nothing is sitting outside, nothing is watching me. It stopped raining but not long ago. I get up and walk to the window. I can climb out of the window but I do not. Were I to go out, where would I go? How long would I be gone before I am back here? Won’t it be easier to confront the reality of not leaving than to return to the same place? I move away from the window and sit in the chair. Maybe the pigeon will come back.
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