Optimism & Pigeons
June skipped ahead happily, her scarf fluttering behind her as pigeons scattered
left and right.
"Don't you love the park, Val?"
"No," Valentine muttered, digging his hands grumpily into the pockets of his wool coat.
"It's cold, and there're pigeons everywhere."
"But pigeons are pretty! Have you ever watched them take off? I mean, they seem
so dull and boring at first, but when the light catches their feathers, they're green and blue and purple and shimmery!" she exclaimed, turning her head to talk to Valentine.
"Disease covered rats with wings, that's all they are," he said distastefully,
eyeing the oblivious pigeons suspiciously.
"Aw. You're such a pessimist, Val. You should really cheer up! Think about happy
things!" June announced.
"You're accusing me of being a pessimist?! Well, at least I'm not like you. I don't
go around chanting about silver linings and suns and sparkly pigeons," Valentine told her
witheringly, "and it's Valentine, not Val."
"Well...well, at least my glass has more water than yours, Mr. Pessimist! So
there!" June interjected, and stuck out her tongue.
Valentine struggled to hide a smile. "Hmph. Well, whatever."
"See? You're not such a grumpy-butt after all." June grinned and twirled around
joyfully in a ripple of scarf-tassels. "So, want to feed the pigeons?"