How peculiar it is to be able to perch oneself atop a lamp post. Had I not transformed into a little blue bird, this tall metal structure — no matter how sturdy — surely would have complained about being burdened by a fully grown woman’s weight! That lady from the crowd is standing very close to Bunim. What could she possibly want from him, I wonder. Does she not sense his discomfort? Is she trying to rattle him on purpose? There is something odd about the way she speaks. I can’t quite discern what it is.