Grackle Poetic Justice

by Anonymous
(Austin)

I swear this is true. About ten years ago I was downtown and walking through Republic Square Park. I had my hands in my pockets and I remember I had a little change in my pocket, too. Something like 3 or 4 quarters.

A young and very thin homeless guy approached me and asked if I could spare a buck or two. I forget exactly how I said it, but I basically told him that I didn't have any money on me.

But as I tell him this, I literally have my fingers wrapped around the 3 or 4 coins in my pocket.

Then he goes his way and I keep going my way. I get maybe five or ten feet when all of a sudden I feel something wet splatting in my hair.

It wasn't rain.

It was poetic justice from a lone grackle flying overhead.