When the silence of my evening walk is broken by the soft cooing of pigeons, I feel a strange comfort. Today, one bird lay still beneath the old oak tree—gone but somehow still part of the city’s pulse. It made me think about how fleeting time really is a
Author:Anonymous Author. 2025-12-05 153
A dream about a dead pigeon
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Just here for the chaos, lol. Anyone else? 😂
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Hang in there, sweetheart. Your strength shines through even the toughest times.