This Magpie Tale celebrates another stubborn urban eccentric
“Got to buy some illusions, if only I can find the Fotomat…”
She had always been one to cling to things that were prone to extinction. And now she sat in the path of progress, perched on her little tree that was not even large enough to share with her bird. Her bird was the last of its kind as well.
She had read of the plight of the last known passenger pigeon and dodo, but clung to the belief that they would return.
“My old flame…can’t even remember his name…” Need an ardent ember need a name, when all that matters is the memory it embeds in the heart and soul.
Eccentric, adrift, alone but for her bird and tree she attracted more pity than scorn except for the impatient bulldozer that wondered how much longer she would hold out until asphalt and steel could cover her fey memory.
A tree grows somewhere, right where the Fotomat kiosk went, two blocks away from the elephant graveyard.