The Pigeon.

So this is the story:
Karla, Ginna and I are sitting in the piazza, eating gelato. We see this pigeon sitting on the ground, not moving. As we sit and eat our gelato, we watch as people stare at the pigeon. The little kids are intriqued by it, stomping on the ground in front of it, wondering why it isn't flying away. A lady approaches it and nudges it with her foot; it slowly rolls onto its side, then straightens up again. It finally sinks to the ground, so we walked away assuming it was the end of the pigeon. We turn around to see a man leaning over it. He examines it for five minutes, looks at the sky, TOUCHES IT, looks at it again, PICKS UP THE DEAD PIGEON, and walks away with it. And there goes the pigeon. THE END>