Once, in his freshman year, a dove had flown into the closed-off storage chamber beneath the bleachers. Right around the late fall, when leaves curled dead on the trees, it had made a flight for its life by swooping into the open metal entry gate, disappearing into the shadowy ceiling.
When the door closed shut, the whole class a loud and heard frantic flapping. Only one person had mentioned it to the PE teacher, and that student had not been him.
“Open it the doors, it’s stuck.”
“It flew in there; it knew what it was doing.” Said Ms.Copper, as the fading light glinted off her sunglasses. She wore them because she was cross-eyed.
“It didn’t know it would die.”
“It’s only a pigeon.” Was the impatient reply, “There are millions of them.”
“There are also millions of people.”
No wrinkle of thought carved its mark on her leathery face, as she heard without listening. None ever did.
“There’s nothing I can do.”
And then the door locked shut on the frantic flapping.
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