The Ballad of Larry the Pigeon

Larry the Pigeon sat high above ground on the small ledge atop the cluster of offices on the very edge of town. From their windows the office workers would only see the smoggy pavement, smeared with the vomit of the alcoholic homeless, but Larry could see much more. So very much more. From the residential district where they’d found that woman trying to interbreed with a fence, to the place where that man got ran over by a tram and they erected a muffin shop in his honour, the immense horizon was always within Larry’s reach. It was frightening, dangerous, vast, wonderful. Larry’s city. Larry’s kingdom.

Sometimes the children would come out and play for a few minutes before they found another body in the playground’s sandpit and they had to go home. This pleased Larry greatly. The sound of children screaming always meant that another meal had been left out for him. He didn’t care much for sand, but he cared very much for brains.

The days would go by very much the same. The sun would rise, Larry would try to eat the faces of pedestrians, poop on cars and generally just be a massive arsehole. The sky would turn from black to red to orange to blue and find solace again in the dark. The sun would move across the sky and Larry with it, across mountains (of concrete) and streams (usually of urine).

And now Larry sat atop the office building looking out, preening himself with his manky foot that most pigeons seem to have for some reason. Soon the office workers would go home for tea, to eat, to sleep, to invariably dream about ending their lives, to wake up and come back tomorrow. Larry had made a right fucking mess of their roof. He was an unwelcome sight and an unwelcome smell, just the way he liked it. He was covered in what can only be assumed to be layers of shit, but he did not mind. This roof was his kingdom, dead rats and all.

Then Tim, Larry’s pigeon friend, flew over and landed beside him. Tim was one of those pigeons that was born with the unusually common trait of stealing chips from children.

‘Wanna see something awesome?’, asked Tim.

‘Yeah, alright’, said Larry.

Larry watched as Tim flew away from the rooftop and directly into the wall opposite. Tim slid down the wall and landed on the pavement with a satisfying thud. Larry flew down and looked at his friend smeared all over the wall, brains all over the pavement.

‘You’re right’, Larry said as he was getting ready to eat Tim’s brain, ‘that was pretty awesome’.