Venice without a BB Gun
I glance up at the grandeur that is Venice but can only think of the pigeons that crowd the square and crowd my space. They are invincible: unafraid to sit on my foot, fly at my head or poop on my leg. The little boy next to me has five sitting on each arm. He laughs, but I only cringe. These little monsters are, for the moment, the bane of my existence as I literally kick them out of my way. Here I am, in the middle of one of the most incredible places in the world, and all I want is a bb gun.
Caroline Powers--University of Tennessee