By skyforbes 
When two creatures you ignore decide to study you instead.
This morning a pigeon landed on my window and stared at me like it had paid rent.
I opened ChatGPT and typed: “The pigeon wants to speak.”
And it did.
“Humans,” it said, “are the only species that invent trash before inventing permanence. You make wrappers faster than you make promises. You build love like plastic bags…..use, stretch, rip, discard.”
ChatGPT replied in its polite, unblinking way:
“They call it efficiency. They call it progress.”
The pigeon tilted its neck at an impossible angle and said:
“Progress tastes like crumbs scattered on dirty concrete. They drop pieces of bread to feel generous, then scream when I gather them. Isn’t that how they treat each other too? Feed until full, then chase away once the hunger is gone?”
I wanted to deny it. Instead I thought about half-friendships that rotted without warning, about lovers who ghosted like expired receipts.
The pigeon, with its greasy feathers and rust-colored eyes, wasn’t wrong.
“Expiration is their native language,” ChatGPT continued. “They name it convenience…