A Taste of Chicago
They say, birds of a feather flock together... the cannibals!
Overhead, flying, soaring, the streets below full of food vendors (this post is about the Taste of Chicago food festival, after all), the birds were not picky, eating whatever, however, whenever... the lucky plucks!
A week later, more charges to my credit card than I had any idea, and it's all a blurry (if lip-smacking) memory... but not for the birds, they remember and are happy to swoop down for a closer look whenever I am alone eating in the park, wondering, waiting, hoping, for just a nibble, a bite, a peck, as if to say, 'Give us a little. We won't tell. This can be our little secret.'
But you know if you did, they'd just fly away... into the distance... just like everything else... a fading memory.
© copyright 2017 Brett Paufler