While running today, a bit outcast along my route. Saw 2 crows with its respective beak snapped on the rim of plastic bowl, taking turns. Fighting over an oversized but empty plastic takeaway bowl. A whiff of chilli smell hung on the air, remrants of a probably late night ramen, taken by the side of esplanade.
When we fight over something, in stress, is that something as meaningless as an empty but fragrant plastic bowl?
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