Urban Storytelling
Friday 18th February 2005
The Bird - now you see it, now you don't
It was the last day of Concorde. People trotted out from their offices to come to Bristol Bridge and the Downs to watch the swan song of the sleek white machine. "There it is, it's Concorde!" people said, waving their sandwiches in the air.
Then it was gone.
As people turned away, eyes flicked to wrist watches, heels clicked on cobbles, umbrellas popped up like mushrooms, as if sprouting from the rain that had gone unnoticed. All that remained in the sky was the delayed strum of a helicopter, but eyes turned downwards and back to the ground.
I stood in front of the photocopier, staring out of the window. Two floors up, I could see a pedestrian walking along the quiet street below; a lady wearing a red mackintosh, carrying a plastic grocery bag. A large seagull stood perched on the neighbouring roof, cocked it's head and cast a beady eye to the moving figure as if she were a tiny ant. It waddled backwards, then forwards, revealing the shape of a small fluffy creature, grey in colour, and the source of a great deal of squeaking. The baby bird followed its parent's movements, halting only when it came too close to the edge of the roof.
The photocopier beeped and informed me politely of a paper jam, suggesting I check compartments A, D, X, or P2, red lights flashing like a Christmas tree. I opened the paper tray, thought, "have I still got some chicken in the freezer?" banged twice on the front panel, and it started up again, cheerfully spewing out paper at a dangerous temperature.
My eye flickered back towards the window in time to see the seagull, swoop down and knock the lady pedestrian to the pavement. The grocery bag split open and some oranges rolled out into the gutter. The seagull returned to it's roosting place to comfort the now highly agitated youngster. The lady picked herself up from the floor and dusted herself down. Leaving the groceries festooned on the pavement, she ran into the nearest building.
Some minutes later, the lady returned, gesticulating into the air, dragging behind her a bespectacled man in a shirt and tie. She pointed at the bird, and at her shopping. The bemused man pushed his glassed into his nose, shrugged apologetically, and when her back was turned, sneaked back inside.
