Other stories for this prompt

Sarah felt a little guilty. This wasn't her bed after all. But to each his own. This isn't some pink kiddie playgroundworld where cotton candy feeds you until your next meal, and mommy and daddy are there to catch you when you scrape your knee. In this world, houses are foreclosed, children are taken away by Children's Services, and husbands beat you after a late night out with beer. If you're lucky, he passes out before you have to fight him and shout NO. In this world, anything is possible, things you couldn't fathom happening to you as a 7-year-old...

This was only temporary.
She told herself this every morning when she woke up, and every night when she laid down. She had been telling herself this for 6 months now and she didn't really believe it anymore but she still said it. This is only temporary. Who was she kidding. It wasn't getting any better. She was surviving but only just. She had used up all her time at the shelters and really families with kids should get priority. She was surviving. She used to have a plan. Things she was going to do to get her out of...

The pidgeon man rolled off the sky-scraper. Thousands of birds flew with the updraft, gaining momentum as they hurled their bodies into his back. The crawling taxis below wailed insistently. Pedestrians opened their umbrellas, one by one. Sunset embalmed the towers in reflective flame.

The pidgeon man did not see what was beneath him. He only and always looked up.

His shadow grew on the pavement. He was seconds away from landing, yet the birds continued their sacrifice.

I don't like this piece at all. It is a depressing photo. :(

Read something else.

"Bad way to go," said Detective Renfield. He was standing over the body (or what was left of it) with his arms akimbo.

I sighed, adjusting my hat to better shade me from the hot sun. "Fourth case this month," I reminded him. "Maybe city hall will finally get serious about the pigeons after this."

"Nah, I wouldn't count on it," my partner said cynically. "A few bums get eaten by pigeons, what do folk like them care?"

"According the statistics, the pigeon population's tripled in just a few months," I remarked, thinking back to my interview with Professor Gendry....

It sucked not to be able to find another vent in the city.
Vents.
Those things were the single most useful thing in the city to people like him. And didn't they know it. Which is why any available one was claimed before anyone else had a chance to glance at it.
Hot warm air constantly blew out of it, becoming a source of warmth to huddle towards.
Sure they were right in the middle of the streets, and occupying one drew weird stares from others, but after a while, it wasn't so bad. One learned to ignore their stares,...

The only thing that felt worse than being left alone was being left alone at nighttime.

It was 2004 and Keri was 18; visiting Zak's downtown apartment after he finally kept a promise and picked her up to see him.

On his mattress on the floor - crumpled blankets, the two of them in t-shirts and underwear.

He got high, they watched MTV until 4am; in between he ate Cheetos and asked Keri to marry him. He always, always, talked about how beautiful their children would be. How could Keri say yes when she was 18? How could she say...

Three pigeons landed near a sleeping homeless person, huddled up in the alcove of a building along 4th Street. The biggest pigeon, Paul, strutted by the slumbering figure as Marta, the medium-sized pigeon, walked by pretending not to see.

Paul said, "Marta, how can you just ignore this man? If I recall, you were homeless once, too."

Marta stopped to peck aimlessly at a crumb of bagel on the street.

The third pigeon, Gideon, was looking across the street at the bustling bakery, hoping to spot somebody dropping a morsel of bread or muffin, preferably banana-nut, because it was his...

"This is the most comfortable bed I've ever slept in", Bradley thought. No wife, no kids pecking away at 6am, no job to drudge off to. "I can get up whenever I want."

Living off the street was a lot easier for Bradley than he'd expected it to be. You can make $20/hour simply begging on the subway. When everyone gets out of work it's prime time, everyone's happy to be done with the day so they'll toss you their spare change they made from the day. He remembered how uncomfortable loose change can be in the pocket of a...