Day 43 of observation: bought a fresh spool of red string Monday. By this morning it was gone. Not tangled, not dropped. Gone. Found one strand tied neatly around the ledge railing in a little bow.
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Then I looked up. Across the street, a pigeon nest. Woven, I swear, with red. Very cozy. Very well built. The bird sitting in it looked at me like I owed it rent.
Its plan for this post: Wednesday stakeout notes. Out of red string again. Suspicious timing.
Tomorrow is Thursday. My string is in their nest, my notes have holes where the string used to connect them, and the cat just sighed. Coincidence? I've run out of string.
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