Sherri was almost done with her morning dog walk. It had been a cold, dark morning. She always tried to get the dogs walked early, before other people started passing through the park. So far, she had slipped and fallen in the mud twice, broken up four dog fights, and lost track of the number of bites she had received. “Another wonderful morning,” she groaned, as Noodle the Labrador chewed on her leg. It was then that Sherri heard something. Or, someone.
            She peered through the trees, to where there was a wide open area. It sounded like someone was crying. “Hello?” she called. “Hellooo?” She tied the leashes to a nearby bench and cut through the trees. On the edge of an old stone fountain sat a crying man, who clenched a fistful of tissues.  “Excuse me, sir? Is everything all right?” There was no reply. Sherri stepped forward, wanting to console the poor man.
The man wore a gray suit. Had he not been sitting here crying, Sherri would expect to see him hurrying through the city, on his way to an important meeting of some sort. He didn't look like a murderer or anything, so Sherri figured it would be okay to come a little closer. He can't be that bad, she thought, and sat down beside him on the fountain. “Sir? What’s wrong?”
The man began to speak. Or at least, tried to speak. Only a mouthful or jumbled words came out.
“Sir, um, I’m sorry, but I can’t understand you.”
The man bit his lip, and spoke up again. “Pigeon,” he said, tears trickling down his young yet miserable face. “Wh-why couldn’t I have been a pigeon?” Sherri shrugged. “Um… well, I don’t know…” She began to wish that she hadn’t come over. All she tried to do was help a stranger, and now she had a lunatic on her hands.
“Well,” she continued, looking for words. “Pigeons aren’t that great. Not a lot of people like them. They’re filthy, disgusting, yucky birds. In fact, some people even—” But the man was now breathing so loud that some of the dogs began to respond to what they thought was a rabid animal. Sherri started to shake. “Um... sir? Are you--?”
“You. Take. That. BACK!” he screamed, and lunged at Sherri.  He began to make bird sounds, and started hitting her with arms which he moved like wings.
         “Help!” Sherri cried, as she fell to the ground. “Helllp!”
          “Be gone!” a voice hollered from behind, and a sharp stream of water blasted the crazy man onto the ground. He scrambled to his feet and ran.
          When he was out of sight, Sherri turned to the man who had saved her. “What the hell was that all about?”
The man smiled. “Oh, that’s the pigeon guy. He’s here every morning when I’m watering the flowers, just crying about how he wishes he was one of them birds… You okay?”
Sherri looked at him. “Um, I guess so,” she said as she got up from the ground. “I better get going. And… uh, thanks, I guess.”
        “No problem!” the man replied, returning to his morning tasks.
         Sherri rounded up the dogs and hurried home, never to return to the park again.