C157 He Drank the Bone Soup

The midday sun slowly faded, and the warmth in the air dissipated as a pigeon gracefully landed in a backyard. On the windowsill sat an ornate little cauldron filled with golden grains, which the pigeon pecked at eagerly.

A gentle hand stroked the pigeon's back, and it stood obediently, nudging its small head against the palm affectionately before resuming its meal