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Weekly Contest #362
The pigeon came on the subway the same day I started to dissect vegetables at the kitchen, and Boston suddenly seemed so big and strange, about to take off. The pigeon—the Red Line, got on the Davis, off at Porter. It hesitated a moment at the ledge between door and platform, like my friend Emma, who’s afraid to step onto escalators. It dove precisely into a cluster of pigeons fighting over a bread, like it had heard about it. I wondered if they had all come here by means of public transportation. Earlier that day, I was at work in Davis, ki...
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