Old Ezra shuffled along the alley, a paper sack clutched under one arm. His body was lean and gaunt. Years on the street had aged him twice over.
A pigeon flew from the eaves overhead, startling him. Pigeon! Ezra's mind wandered back in time. A blonde-haired girl of three climbed onto his lap. She had been his Pigeon. He called her that after the day they'd gone to the park and she'd wanted to stay and live with the pigeons.
Ezra sauntered across the street, down the embankment by the dam and into the shadows of the bridge. He came to a flat rock, sat down and hunched his back against the biting wind. It was bloody cold, that was for sure.
Ezra pulled the bottle from the bag, broke the seal and guzzled the whiskey. He pulled a dog-earred photo from his pocket. Pigeon smiled out at him. He swiped a tear from his cheek. Life was like a deck of cards...you played the hand you were dealt. When pigeon died, a part of him had died with her.
Ezra continued to drink into the wee hours of the morning. When the whiskey was gone, he pulled out a bottle of rubbing alcohol. He looked bleary-eyed at the skull and crossbones on the label.
"To you ol' buddy," he mumbled, then took a long drink from the bottle.
Ezra slept. His dreams took him to a lush meadow. Pigeon stood in a patch of wildflowers. The sun was blinding. A blanket of peacefulness enveloped him...a serenity that he had never felt before.
Pigeon came toward him, arms out-stretched. Ezra didn't hesitate. He stepped out of the shadows and into the light. He was with his Pigeon once more.
I hope you enjoyed this very short story. Sometimes my mind just wanders into a different realm and I jot down the happenings of where my imagination takes me.
Have a great week and be sure to stay warm. They are predicting that we will have a deep freeze for a day or two. Temperatures will reach minus 30 degrees Celcius with the windchill. Be careful and stay safe. ~Blessings, Mary~