I’m sitting at Cheers, minding my own business and writing (really!) when outside my window, a little bird falls into a man’s lap. He jumps, not realizing what it is and the bird falls onto the sidewalk, fluttering its wings. The man is sad he dumped the bird onto the ground, so he coaxes the bird onto his flattened-out map. (I guess he’s not from around here, what a story to tell when he gets home). Then the guy slowly, so as to not disturb the bird, turns around and sits back on his chair. All the while, he keeps the bird balanced steadily on his map.
My jaw is open this whole time. So is the jaw of my neighbor, over at the closest table, also by the windows. In unison, my neighbor in the coffee shop, the tourist man with the bird, his wife and I all look up. Where did this bird come from? There’s a balcony overhead, but no visible nest. There are no trees within sight. The bird literally just fell from the sky and into the man’s lap.
It’s a little bird, but probably not a baby. It perches on the edge of the guy’s map, which he holds steady, his arm resting on his leg. The bird’s sides heave and its eyes dart around wildly, but both his heaving and his eyes slow as the bird relaxes. And then the man and the bird just chill, sitting there together. The bird is calm and doesn’t move its wings. A few of us inside the coffeeshop wonder if it’s hurt, cause surely it would fly away if it could.
And then, while we’re all speculating and watching, after several moments of resting, the bird flies away. The man turns, looks into the coffeeshop and flaps his arms to tell all of us that all is well.
This really happened, just now. Check out my photographic evidence.