Schubfachprinzip Bar #3 (Fragment #026)

I was sitting on the box, sipping cold beer, when suddenly something rustled under me. I almost jumped out of my skin with surprise and spilled beer onto the counter. Damn!

Someone began to guffaw. I scowled and was going to give a rebuff, but this loud rustle repeated. I slipped off the box and cautiously peeped into a round hole on the side. There was something white inside, like a big rat or a rabbit. I looked through a hole on the other side. A pigeon! Aren’t they flyers? How on earth could someone cage a poor bird into such a stuffy, dark box? A big poker-picture on the side of the box said ‘Kuckuck Circus’. Of course. That was a given. A circus.

I stood straight up and looked about. The bar had suddenly lost its charm. It was as if someone had twitched the festal cloth off a table and bared its true, smeared and scratched ugly surface.

 

by TETIANA ALEKSINA
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