Chester Tobin had been working in the same dull reprographics job for 7 years. But in the last two weeks, something unusual had happened. He had come across the same particular pigeon every single day. It waited for him outside his house in the morning, it sat above the tube station as he journed to work, and more often than not was waiting at the other end as he exited. He could see it throughout his working shift, perched atop a nearby building. On his journeys home Chester could feel the pigeon’s eyes burning through the back of his head.

One day, during the third week of Chester being watched, the pigeon seemed more wary than normal and was trying harder to remain unnoticed. Chester felt this was his opportunity to turn the tables and, after leaving his office by a different exit, he managed to be the one doing the following. He tracked the pigeon along back street after back street for what seemed hours. The longer he followed, the more Chester became nervous. He slowly began to feel the pigeon was aware of his presence and was leading him to a specific place.

Chester couldn’t face it any longer, as the pigeon waddled around a corner in the distance he picked up a broken piece of wood and ran, screaming to confront his fears. The second he turned the corner, Chester stopped. The wood hit the floor. Total horror froze him to the spot. He couldn’t believe his eyes.

There must have been at least 500 of them. All silent, all motionless, all watching him. He had walked into their trap, he’d done everything they wanted him to do, he was at their mercy and he knew it. Slowly one of the pigeons approached him, it was the individual that brought him here. Did Chester just hear that? Yes, the pigeon just sighed, as if he were the bearer of bad news. The sense of pure evil was deeply set in his lifeless little eyes. A rush of adrenaline rushed through Chester’s body, he couldn’t take it anymore, he turned and sprinted as fast as he could, never looking back but hearing the deafening flutter of 1000 wings on his trail.

As he ran, he felt there was no escape, but he dare not look back. Hope began to rise as he came across a few members of the public. He was getting nearer to the main streets, nearer to safety. But something else was wrong. Chester was knocked to the side by one person, then another hit him, and another, each of them with dread in their eyes. Everyone else was sprinting too, but in the opposite direction. Chester slowed to a jog as he pondered. What is everyone running from? Am I running to or from the greater evil? Were the pigeons really my enemy? What did the want to tell me?

These questions played havoc in Chester’s mind until eventually he conceded all hope. He stood calmly in the middle of the road, and awaited his fate.