Home > assh > kunapipi > Vol. 21 (1999) > Iss. 2
Abstract
There was pigeon shit everywhere. He'd had to lean hard on the door and push with his shoulder. It gave with a slow crunch and he slid through the gap. Like stepping into a ghost room, a room that was a plaster cast of itself- only not plaster, but bird shit. Oddly white at first, then grey, black and yellow. An ordi nary, square, furnished room. The door he came in and a door out the opposite side, a settee, a thin-legged table, a broken chair. Net curtains on the window, a sink below, exposed pipes where the cooker once stood. Everything coated in a layer of shit one inch, two inches, some places as much as six inches thick. How many pigeons? How many years? How could such a room exist?
Recommended Citation
Pullinger, Kate, Small Town: Pigeon Fancy, Kunapipi, 21(2), 1999.
Available at:https://ro.uow.edu.au/kunapipi/vol21/iss2/13
