There sat a pigeon, gray and battered, looking like it had seen a death or two in its lifetime. Nowhere to be, nothing to do, it sat alone against the winter’s wind.

There passed Donna, in no hurry to get back to her desk to continue working. She stopped to get a good look at the pigeon. There was nothing remarkable about it, yet she couldn’t look away. When she finally broke her gaze and attempted to move on, the floor tilted beneath her feet. Donna grabbed the window ledge to find her bearings. She took a few more steps and felt dizzy.

“Probably just vertigo,” she said to herself. She was on the ninth floor, after all, and had seen the streetcars moving below in her periphery.

Walking slowly down the hallway didn’t improve her condition like she thought it might. The dizziness never dissipated and her ears began to ring. She couldn’t stop thinking about the haggard pigeon.

“Hey, Donna!” Friendly co-worker, Von, approached her from the opposite end of the hallway. “How are you?”

Donna hugged herself. “I think I looked at a bad pigeon…”

Von laughed. He knew Donna to be a bit of a jokester and thought she was in one of her silly moods. “What?”

There was nothing behind Donna’s eyes. She stared blankly over Von’s shoulder, his words a mere echo in a deep cavern of nothingness.

“Donna?” Von waved his hand in her face. “Donna… Donna! Do you hear me?!”

But she had already checked out.

Coo, said the pigeon.