I came across a pigeon crawling along the road as I drove under a freeway overpass the other day. I swerved to avoid it but could not stop without causing an accident. There was just no room in that tight stretch of road. Swerving was dangerous enough. There was nothing else I could do. I looked up and saw a lot of pigeons standing around taking in the scene from the beams that provided them all perches. There was nothing they could do, either. Their friend was alone and was sure to spend the last few moments of life in terror and pain, knowing deep down that someone was not going to swerve. Those watching knew it too. The stage was set for a death to happen soon. It seemed time had slowed down in that space under the freeway. I suppose it was the pigeon wishing life to last a little longer. Those of us in tune felt it. And wished it, too. For ourselves.