An Exultation of Larks: Urban Fantasy

[penthius]

She was in the park when she noticed the close attention the birds were paying to the man by the fountain. It was odd--she'd walked past the fountain a million times before, and always it seemed that there were people hovering about and looking. This was the first time she'd seen a man sitting by the edge of the fountain and leaning far, far out over it, to the base of the statue itself. It was strange, she reflected, that children never played in the fountain. People never threw quarters in for good luck, bums never tried to scrounge around for change in the fountain. Nobody ever sat on the edge of the fountain, either. It was always, instead, that they stared at it, or commented on it as they walked past. She was not one of the starers. She sped up whenever she walked past, because she did not like the way the strange, blocky shape seemed to loom,. It was a cold thing, a thing not of the park. Come to think of it, it was the first time she'd seen birds anywhere near it. Or squirrels. Or rabbits. Or any of the rest of the park's semi-urban wildlife.

Inspiration: "An Exultation of Larks," by James Lipton
Story Potential: High.
Notes: Who has two thumbs and a good idea? This girl!