Topics: Computers, Birds, Laughter, Personal Experiences.
Timeframe: 30 minutes.
Task: Write something about given topics.

So... Here goes!!

Untilted - Written by Jacqui Doyle.

I wasn’t really sure where I was going. I was on a bus. One of those big monstrous red things, with two floors, three doors, and a walk-in robe. I watched silently as the city streets zoomed past me, watchful and ancient. It seemed like everything in the city had an age to it that commanded respect. These buildings had seen generations of people walk by, millions of nameless tourists had stopped to stare. They’d stand here tomorrow. They’d stand here even after I’m dead and gone. I suppose I was just another one of the million faces staring up at their impossible height. I felt tiny. Insignificant.
A couple stood and inched their way past me, and all of the other sardines that occupied the bus. She laughed over her shoulder as she stepped from the door, smiling a photo-shoot smile. It was odd to hear her laughter amid the constant chaotic drone. It rang clearly over the toneless conversations of the whole city. The sound of her voice was whipped away as the automatic doors closed and the engine pushed us back into the heavy tide of traffic. She was just another face amid even more faces, more silent buildings.
More spikes drilled into ledges to stop birds from perching. The barbs looked like thorns on a rose. Out of place but somehow a part of the charm. Nelson on his column had several spikes through his head. Queen Victoria even had a spike through her nose. They marred the classical forms and turned Roman Gods and Historical figures into neo-modern punk sculptures. All they needed was a safety pin through their nose and a “fuck off you nazi pigeon bastards” scrawled across them. In red paint.

Despite the spikes and the neo-punk outlook on life, Nelson wore a spadge of pigeon shit across his temple. A big “take that” from the most humble of creatures.
I smiled. We can develop self-guided missiles and beam live satalite pictures across the globe but even in the greatest city on the planet, with all the most advanced technology in the world, pigeons still had the power to crap on the mighty.

I smiled. I still wasn’t sure where I was headed but I now faced the uncertainty with a sense of proportion. I was only one face but I had freedom. The spikes didn’t stop me, neither did the overwhelming size of the buildings. If I was a pigeon, I’d be lost amid a vast sky full of identical pigeons. But at least I would be able to fly. And shit on celebrities.

I got off and smiled.
It was my stop.