A Piece of You

The cool autumn sun rested just below the horizon. Rusted street lamps flickered to life, revealing a barren sidewalk. A pigeon perched itself on an old wooden bench, enjoying the scenery of the modest park lush with reddening flora and proud, baring trees; and a palette of pink and orange in the sky.

A young lady joined him on the bench. She sighed heavily and remained still for some time, as did the pigeon. Should he move he might bring attention to himself, but as time passed he realized the human was of no threat. He ruffled his feathers as an evening breeze brushed by and closed his eyes; he would have to retire to his home soon to sleep. Thinking the same about the human, he wondered why she was out at this rare hour.

Suddenly, the young woman stood up and pulled out something out from her jacket pocket. The pigeon eyed the item curiously as it glowed like a little fire in the palm of her hand.

"7:20," she muttered to herself. "I should get going." Her blue eyes peeked about, as if searching for someone. The street was empty.

She let out another sigh and glanced over her shoulder. A ball of feathers sat motionless on the back of the bench. "Hello, little one," she greeted softly.

The pigeon watched her with caution, his beady eye analyzing her every move. The woman, sensing this, quietly chuckled at his nervousness.

"Don't worry, I won't hurt you. I was about to go home, anyway."

The plump, little bird tilted his head. She wanted something, but what?

"Would you like to hear a story? Before I go?" asked the human as she returned to her seat.

The pigeon took a few steps away from her, watching her ever so closely, but didn't refuse her offer. He sensed something was weighing on the human's heart.

It was already late, but he felt it wouldn't hurt to lead an ear to this strange human. Just this once.

She flashed a small smile as the bird settled into his seat. "Actually, it's more of a confession... You know, it's weird," she began, "...how a little place like this could hold so much meaning to a person. I grew up not too far from here. I was seven when I first moved here and didn't have any friends. But right over there," she gestured to the swing set in front of them, "is where I met my best friend for the first time."

The woman entered a soliloquy of her childhood, unaware if the pigeon was listening or not. She ended up in the same class as her best friend, and they would go to the park together every day after school. They were inseparable all throughout middle school, never breaking their tradition of visiting the park together even during high school.

"This place brings back so many memories. I even had my first kiss here," she said. She held her own face as she savored the memory. "I never thought my best friend would confess to me like that. I didn't know what it was, love or just the mood of the moment, but I was so happy he did it. He made me realize how much he meant, and still means, to me," she turned to the sleepy pigeon, "Do you have anyone important to you?"

A helicopter whirled overhead as the bird pondered the question. He turned his vision to one of the tall buildings hiding behind the trees. His nest, his family, his home...

The long-haired woman followed his line of sight and understood. "She's waiting for you, isn't she?" The pigeon ruffled his feathers in agreement. She smiled. "I'm waiting for him, too."

She dug into her pocket again. The pigeon anticipated for the little fire, but puffed up in disappointment at the sight of an oddly-shaped piece of cardboard.

"He loved jigsaw puzzles. I found this piece in his room after he left," she explained as she showed the sulking bird the puzzle piece. She held it with care, like it was the last puzzle piece in existence. "He said 'Goodbye' so quietly I thought it was just my imagination. I didn't really want to hear that word; I thought it meant he would be gone forever... But I learned that he's always here with me, in my heart, even now..." her voice lowered to a whisper, "I will always treasure this puzzle piece. This piece of him."

The city bird perked up and saw her face leaking. He inched toward her for a better look. It was the first time he had seen a human so vulnerable.

"Don't worry about me, I'm fine," mumbled the woman. "You shouldn't keep your partner waiting. Go on now. Go home. Shoo!"

Her sudden movements startled the pigeon into the air. He violently flapped his wings to thrust himself off the bench and gain altitude, setting sail for the tall building. He glanced behind him and saw the woman crouching over. Her image grew smaller and smaller as he glided away.

Under the moonlight, she marveled at something pinched between her fingers. The little pigeon recognized it as a feather. His feather.

He saw the woman curl her lips into a mused smile. He could never comprehend why humans were always so taken by a simple feather. She safely tucked it away into her jacket, and the pigeon flew home, unable to understand.

~

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