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There's a nice little park on 57th Street -- fountain in the middle, baseball diamond nearby. It's busy in the summers, with students and tourists and kids on the playground.
It's November now, though, and getting chilly, and the only person in the park is a figure on a bench feeding the pigeons, long legs stretched in front of him.
He's not exactly covered in birds, but he's definitely surrounded.
No Hitchcock jokes, please.
It's November now, though, and getting chilly, and the only person in the park is a figure on a bench feeding the pigeons, long legs stretched in front of him.
He's not exactly covered in birds, but he's definitely surrounded.
No Hitchcock jokes, please.