Tastes Like Pigeon - Flash Fiction
Updated: 4 days ago
A quiet flash fiction story set after work. In “Tastes Like Pigeon,” Greg Luti follows two longtime friends in a parked car as small talk, exhaustion, and a strange moment outside slowly reveal what they’re both trying not to say.
I sat in the front seat of my car as my friend, Stu sat in the passenger seat eating his lunch. I was picking him up from his job, and so I got him a cheeseburger and fries. I wasn’t all that hungry, so I only got myself a soda.
Instead of driving to Stu’s home to drop him off, I pulled the car over to a street a few blocks away from where he works because the last time Stu went home after work, his parents caused his problems. I won’t go into the details, but we are at the point where we think it is best to avoid them.
I have told him that this may lead to problems for him down the line, on account of him not speaking to his mom and dad all that much, but he never likes to go into that sort of stuff. Stu is what you would call a simple thinker. Or he is avoiding something much worse.
He ate his cheeseburger as I drank my soda. I had nothing really to say to him either. I wasn’t mad at him or anything. I was just tired.
“You mad at me or something? You are quiet.” He asked.
“No. I got no sleep last night.” I admitted.
“Man, you gotta see someone about this. This is the third time you told me about not getting sleep. You are a zombie. You can’t go through life.” I missed the rest as he chewed on his burger.
“Yeah, yeah. I know.” I knew he was right, but I also didn’t want to go further into this.
It’s weird when I am awake; I don’t want to bother with my sleep problems, but when I am trying to sleep, I can’t well… sleep. It is a vicious cycle.
“Thanks for getting this.” He said with food in his mouth.
“You need some napkins?” He needed napkins. The ketchup was all over his face. “I got some in the back.” I reached around to get a few napkins from the last time we did this. Like I said, this is not the first time we have had fast food in the car after my friend worked.
What I saw is next is something that if I didn’t tell you would not believe.
Across the street was an Indian man I never saw before on a corner, standing with a plastic bag in his hand. He looked around as though surveying the scene.
It was then I pointed the guy out to my buddy. I tapped him on the shoulder. “Look at this guy over here.”
Just as Stu turned to see the stranger, the man with the bag scooped a pigeon from off the ground and put it into his bag.
We looked at each other for a split second, unsure of what just happened.
“Did he just?” Stu asked.
The Indian man then walked back into his Halal truck with the pigeon in his bag.
“I mean… did he?” I asked.
“No freaking way,” Stu said.
“He just snatched it.”
“Like it was nothing… And he looked around, too.”
“Oh yeah.”
“So you know he has done this before.”
“Damn, that is true.”
We turned back to the front seats, in a more comfortable position. I noticed I didn’t get the napkins, so I quickly reached again to get a few.
Stu looked at his half-eaten burger. “There is no way this is made of pigeon, right?”
“Is that Halal food?” I asked, and gave him the napkins
“No.” He accepted them and wiped his face.
“Then you are fine.”
“Did I tell you about the guy I worked with who spoke about Halal food?”
“Did he say that it came from pigeons?”
“No. It was at an office party, and someone asked where did it come from, and he said that it
came from India and whatever. The person was like, ‘No, I mean, where did the one franchise come from.’ Like I care where that food comes from. I don’t need to know the origins of dishes.”
“Who knows? You may learn you have been eating bird all along.” I sipped my soda, as he finished his burger. “You ready to go?”
Stu checked his watch. “Hold on. My parents will leave in an hour. Let’s go to the mall for a bit before that.”
“Are you ever going to just confront them? Or are you really going to avoid them while you live with them?”
“Are you ever going get your sleeping problems checked?”
I shut up after that comment.
“We can go to the mall down the road,” I suggested.
I pulled the car out and started to drive away.
“Should we do something about that?” Stu asked.
“You mean the fact that a food vendor took a random animal from the street and is using it to produce items for his customers?”
“Yeah…”
“Probably.”
“Man, I am never eating Halal again. That was nasty.”
“It does explain where all the pigeons have gone.”
Comments