dove shit

Sitting in the park today, minding my own business drawing todays task when my teacher approaches me and says I should move and sit on another bench to avoid the sunreflection on the paper. (Apperantly it's bad for your eyes.) My teacher, a very intimidating older catalan lady, isn't the kind of person that you argue with, so I move to next bench. Approximately 10 seconds on the new bench passes when something is falling in my head and on my white dress. It's green, it smells bad and it comes from the trea above. Yes, it's dove shit. Quite a lot of it. I don't make a very big deal out of it, I just go to the toilet of the café and wash it off me. Disgusted, but hey- dove shit is supposed to mean good luck, right? I go back to my seat, the others laugh at my wet hair and somehow the atmosphere is a bit more relaxed. Then it happends. As in slow motion or as a slow-rewind the exact thing happends again. Once might be good luck, but twice must either mean that the luck is inverted or that I'm just very stupid to go back to the shit-zone. My inspiration to draw went away, and giving the bird a glance full of hatred muttering the worst swearwords I know in spanish, impressing most of the other Erasmus student, I try to make a dignified sortie, despite the wet hair and dress full of wet stains. The drawing is still there unfinished, full of shit stains.

I was so traumatized I felt it was entitled to eat one chocolate croissant and one entire chocolate bar, 200 g. I blame the dove.