It's amazing, the things that transfix you, that bring you in with the crowd, that shoot awe through you like a lightning bolt made by Hephaestus. There was a god that shot through all of us today and it was over the most commonplace of all things.
Hawks in trees eat pigeons. The thing is, we hardly ever get to see it. The bird was unafraid, uncaring of the crowd. He didn't know that what he brought to us was the wonder we had continuously when we were children. He didn't know that he brought all those children back.
Death is what captured our gazes, and life at its finest. The two grow on each other, feed each other, allow the other to exist.
Feathers sprayed everywhere, and cracks echoed off the trees and the walls. Blood was swallowed and the bird was satisfied.
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