There's a guy who lives on 72nd street, always brings down crumbs for the birds. He drops the crumbs at the corner and every pigeon in Manhattan flies in. Think Times Square on New Year's eve. Think Grand Central at rush hour,....... and as intense as it becomes it all ends in a flash. Crumbs gone, pigeons gone. A few of the birds follow the guy to his building, but most are not that savy.____________________________
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