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The story of one day. Morning, embankment. I decided to do a photo session with one of my dolls, although today it was not the best idea, because I was tormented by a nauseating migraine and I felt tired all over my body. Refusing a photo session, my doll Liz and I sat down on a bench. An ordinary morning, nothing unusual, except for one thing – ahead, about twenty meters away, two stupid stray dogs are playing with a dove.

Desperate flaps of wings are visible in the grass every now and then. I look at this and understand that once upon a time I have already seen something similar. I do not want to interfere, I am so tired of this migraine and a suffering pigeon is the very last thing I need in this life now. But something stubbornly clicks in my head. A clear understanding comes that throwing this pigeon is like seeing two rapists attacking a girl and not interfering with them, it’s like becoming an accomplice of some shit, even if you don’t do it …

I mentally replay the script – how dogs can behave when they begin to take “prey” from them. But, I was lucky – they distanced themselves, it was worth approaching them. The pigeon was alive, he did not dare to move and gasped for air in greedy gulps, he froze in anticipation of death. I put him on a gray concrete slab, the bird was motionless, but periodically uttered screams, she begged for help. I put it on my left palm and carried it home.

The dove calmed down and hid its claws so as not to scratch my palm. I was carrying not a bird, but a huge throbbing heart, I carried life itself. This is a very rare moment of experiencing happiness from awareness, a clear understanding that everything is interconnected, everything is written with one hand …

He flew away the same day. Gained strength and hit the road. I don’t know if he is alive, but I hope that everything will turn out blissfully for this gray-winged one.

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