The last day of June was hot with occasional sunshine. Thick grey clouds floating upon the hazy blue sky shaded the radiating sun. I reached the rear side of the park without greeting the clap-hand old buddy who was practicing the same exercise I supposed. To prevent instant shower might fall, the first thing I did was wrapping my stuff with plastic soon as I sat on the edge of the plant bed. The dry sunray reflected brilliant color upon the scenery, while I felt relax painting the view by measuring with my fingers rather than the brush. It was not surprised finding no sight of the chatty group attending the hot square, when I heard a pop sound and saw a splash of yellowish stuff attached on my painting. I looked up through the abundance of fresh green canopies right above my head. A bird stood firmly on one of branches viewing the distance scenery. I yelled at him for giving me such a revolting prize of shit ruining my painting. From that time onwards the adorable feelings towards the chirping birds was discounted for his misbehavior.


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