There are days that unfold in an orderly fashion, like a well-behaved spreadsheet, and then there are days like the one Leonard experienced—a day that began with a kazoo solo and ended with a startled hedgehog holding a birthday balloon. None of this was scheduled. None of it made sense. And yet, the universe insisted on letting it happen anyway.
Leonard woke up to the sound of someone—something?—playing “Happy Birthday” on a kazoo outside his window. He didn’t check. Some mysteries are best left unobserved before coffee. Instead, he turned on his laptop, hoping for normality. Instead, he was greeted by five familiar and completely baffling tabs:
roof cleaning isle of wight
patio cleaning isle of wight
driveway cleaning isle of wight
exterior cleaning isle of wight
pressure washing isle of wight
He did not open them. He does not remember ever searching for them. He suspects either sleep-Googling or a ghost with very strong opinions about outdoor hygiene.
Before he could investigate, Leonard’s neighbour Doris knocked on the door wearing a cape made entirely out of old theatre tickets. She announced, with deep seriousness, that the pigeons had formed a committee and would be holding a vote at 2pm. On what subject? Unclear. But she insisted snacks would be provided, which felt like a level of hospitality most birds don’t bother with.
Leonard agreed to attend—mostly because he had questions, but partly because he didn’t want to look rude in front of parliament-level pigeons. Before leaving, he glanced again at his browser tabs. Why roof cleaning? Why patio cleaning? Why every possible surface of the outdoors? Was the universe hinting? Had he been enrolled, against his will, in some kind of unsolicited exterior maintenance syllabus?
No answers yet.
The pigeon meeting, as it turned out, consisted of three pigeons on a fence, one sparrow acting as a notary, and a hedgehog who crashed the event holding a balloon that read “CONGRATS.” No one knew why. No one stopped him. The hedgehog seemed proud.
The vote? Something about whether breadcrumbs should be considered a shared community resource or strictly bring-your-own. Leonard abstained. He didn’t feel qualified.
When he returned home, the kazoo had stopped, the balloon had floated away, and the laptop tabs remained open—quiet, unassuming, waiting. He clicked one—driveway cleaning isle of wight—just to see if there was some hidden cosmic message inside. There was not. Just normal information. Rational. Sensible. Deeply out of place in his current reality.
Leonard closed the laptop. He made tea. He accepted that some days are less about answers and more about witnessing whatever nonsense the world wants to perform in front of you.
And somewhere outside, a pigeon adjusted its tie, ready for the next meeting.