So I know when I’m overdue – yet on the other hand, I’ve spent the last several hours writing emails, facebook comments, and my mind is tired. Can I find it in me to engage you, the reader, with electronic facsimiles of language? And while I’m on the subject of asking questions, why is it that I substitute the substance of community and connection with the form of reading people’s blogs and feeling like I’ve interacted with them in some meaningful way? Or maybe it can be meaningful? Or maybe I should shut up with the asking of questions and tell a story…
Today I was walking over to Jenna’s house. It’s outside the favela, about 20 minutes from here if I take my time and don’t get stopped by the police and searched for drugs. It hardly ever happens anymore – they’ve learned to recognize the gringo by sight, and usually leave me alone… As I sauntered down the road, late (as usual) for our meeting, I saw a motorcyclist wearing a helmet with the visor flipped up. He probably thought it was a warm day and wanted some fresh air in his stuffy helmet. He wasn’t expecting the pigeon.
This pigeon, sitting in the middle of the road, was startled by the motorcycle, so it tried to take off and fly away. He didn’t make it – or rather, somehow, the bird flew up and into the man’s helmet and was pinned under the visor against the man’s face by the force of the wind. It was a rude surprise for both parties involved. The man jittered and jerked as he scrabbled with his right hand to remove the bird from its most unhelpful position. The bird sputtered and squawked and thrashed at the indignity of it all. The motorcycle swerved all over the road, narrowly missing a pot-hole, a telephone pole, and an oncoming car. I stood there, transfixed by the drama… What would happen?
(Now it’s time to… Choose Your Own Adventure…)
…if you choose…
a) a local drug trafficker, tired of watching the drama, shoots both the bird and cyclist… (go to comment 1)
b) the motorcyclist manages to slow down, pulls over, looks around to see who’s watching, and when satisfied that he is mostly unobserved, twists the pigeon’s neck and then stuffs it into his backpack before riding off… (go to comment 2)
c) the pigeon’s friends see it attacked by a man on a motorcycle and come to its rescue in a scene that can only be compared to an especially horrific remake of Alfred Hitchcock’s The Birds… (go to comment 3)
d) fill in your own scenario of how the story ends… (comments 4 and up)