I was coming back from Tia Juanas, the Mexican food restaurant Brian has so graciously introduced me to. With a drink in hand and a brown paper bag in the other, I strode back to where I’ve been calling it “home”. The sun just overhead and the smell of steak and chicken rising from the bag–it was a lovely walk back.

I stepped off the curb and trotted across a narrow street which I could see lead to some cute, family homes. Not far in the distance, I could see someone walking toward me, back to where I had come from. As I got closer, I could see he was an older gentleman with a bushy grey beard that went past his collar. He was wearing a polyester sweatshirt and a pair of old levis. He had a backpack and a pair of cowboy boots. And on his right sleeve, a large, red, parrot. The kind you see in the zoo. The kind whose beaks you don’t want near your fingers. As we walked toward each other, I decided to make eye contact and comment on his exotic pet.

“That’s a beautiful bird,” I smiled as I slowly passed.

“Thanks. So do you.”

And right then, I looked down at my brown bag, containing delicious steak and chicken tacos, and I wanted to say, “Yes, they are beautiful, aren’t they?”

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