Fiction

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For six hours a day, he watched the couple spin. At first, he despised them. It was emptiness for emptiness’s sake. A piece that exemplified all the worst impulses of contemporary art, the things that made people snicker and roll their eyes while they passed through the museum. Now, after so many hours alone with …

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Today, Cheryl is five: The number is startling, a near impossibility. Last night, roosting in her nest of unraveled mittens, in the stone alcove under the metro’s vaulted ceiling, Cheryl had considered her age with pride. Five! Most urban-dwelling pigeons didn’t live past the tender age of two. Both her parents had died when she …