I go on a bicycle, the weather is great, the mood is fine. The morning. In the park, I see a grandmother throwing something like wheat to the pigeons. Grandma is charming - this is the embodiment of a sweet and cozy old age.
I stop...
Do you feed the pigeons?
A sweet smile, throwing your hand towards the nearest bushes.
and cats.
I’m not going to lie that I’ve been "collapsing" or "I’ve been in a wild shock", but it’s been a great shock. The conversation did not continue, but now I think - whether the grandmother was still a troll, or whether the truth of cats was fed...