The Pigeon Lady

She pulled her hands out of the crumpled paper bag, holding a handful of dried breadcrumbs. Hundreds of pigeons fluttered their wings, growing impatient. Her frail hands sprinkled the crumbs around her. Peck. Peck. Peck. Other birds from across the park flew over to join the fray. One hopped onto the bench, cocking its head to the side, staring at the old lady. Taking her index finger, she stroked its head and placed a crumb on the bench . Peck. Peck. Peck. They came closer as the crumbs disappeared, encircling the bench, some hopping on her lap and a few landing on her shoulders. She giggled, digging her hands back into the bag and scattering more.