In which The Gay Recluse becomes increasingly obsessed with birds.

One thing about birds.

No matter how disgusting and dirty they look walking around on the ground — especially pigeons — they are always beautiful in the air.

Sometimes at the gym — which is on the third floor — we blow off our workout in favor of watching the flocks of pigeons fly through the canyons.

They look like schools of fish, turning en masse in a fraction of a second above the heads of the oblivious pedestrians. Sometimes they’ll even reflect a shaft of sunlight.

And for a second, they seem happy to be alive.