pigeon bit

Lieutenant Gomenko’s mobile rang. He pulled it out of his pocket, looked at it, then juggled it to his ear.
He swivelled around in his chair.
“I am,” he said, looking out the office window.
He listened some more.
“We’re not looking the best,” he said.
Outside, pigeons had stopped on the stonework and were looking around like they were lost.
“That didn’t help,” Gomenko said.
One pigeon flew off.
“That would be putting it mildly,” he said.
Then the whole flock of them took off.
“And what offer would that be?”
Gomenko’s eyes followed some back-to-front scene inside his head until they could follow no more.
“Understood,” he said, and pushed End Call.
Then he winced and gently slammed his fist into the desk.