Of course, anyone in her right mind would just avoid pigeons, and, as a last resort, run around screaming until they went away. But Paniz wasn't in her right mind. No, she was going to do something. She wiped the grease off her pizza with a napkin, looked up at me earnestly, and said: "
" I stared at her."What?"
"I'm writing a book about pigeons." She told me.
"Oh. Well, good, then."
"I must educate the public." She told me.
"Yes, of course."
"I've made the title page." She told me. "I drew a giant pigeon."
"Good."
"What are we doing here? We don't go to school here anymore."
"I don't know." I told her. "There's a guy named Spencer in my math class."
"Cool."
"Well, it's good to see you."
"Yeah. You, too."
"Bye."
"Bye."
And the pizza place, complete with Lebanese owner and cold food, dematerialized.