This morning the park slide opened before the pigeons had finished counting themselves. Hats arrived in a tidy line, each issued a sled no bigger than a teaspoon. They said good morning to the top step. They nodded to the lawn. Only then did they go down, exactly once, as if a second ride would have been showing off.
We asked at the kiosk by the path. "I came for a paper and a bun," said a woman with a folded scarf. "A little straw boater went first. The grass nodded. After that nobody wanted to hurry."
From the park keeper's notebook: please do not sit on the sleds. They are sized for brims. The top step has already been greeted, and that is quite enough courtesy for a Thursday.
The next morning the same sleds were back at the top, still warm from the sun. The hats climbed again, nodded to the lawn, and went down once as if they had never left.