This cannot be happening. Maybe it’s a bizarre dream. But even in a dream, there’s no way that I can possibly let a pigeon sleep on my bed. It’s like having a flying cockroach in my bed. Just, no. I try to shoo it away, grimacing as my fingers touch its grey and black wings. I tell myself it’s a clean pigeon. Those exist, right? Oh, no. What if it pooped on my bed? ― Bridget E. Baker, My Pigeon Familiar I thought I was […]