Me vs the bird
I am off to go for a run now. I am debating whether to do my normal 10km city circuit that takes me down Pitt Street because there is a nesting black bird that has attacked me ever time I go down there. Over the past week it has gathered even more interest from the local community to the point of making it to the TV news last night.
When it attacked last time (I omitted this from the previous post) I wanted to go back and strike it down out of the sky. After having it swoop at me and forcing me to duck for cover I thought “to hell with this”, and turned to face the wretched thing.
I looked back up and spotted it in a tree, it’s beady yellow eyes staring down at me. I met its gaze.
Dropping from the branch it was perched on it’s unfurled its wings and set its path for me. Our locked stare didn’t waver. Like a missile it targeted me and beat it’s wings to gather speed. As it closed in I pulled my arm back, full water bottle in hand, and at the last moment hefted my only defence at it. Expecting an impact and, hoping for supremacy I was dismayed to see the bird twist in mid dive and turn 90 degrees to avoid it’s doom.
Cautiously, I moved down Pitt street out of the bird territory, fending off attacks in similar fashion a few more times along the way.
