RUBBISH BIRDS

Watching pigeons, starlings, and a couple of songthrushes, it looked like, pecking at a blue plastic bag was part and at the end of a rubbish slick in the car park opposite the bottom entrance to Armada.
‘You going to report this?’ a man’s voice beside me.
‘I wasn’t planning to,’ I said, ‘why?’
‘Well, I complained recently and nothing got done...did the first time, something happened immediately, got cleared up, but not the last time.’
‘I’ve not seen it like this before...usually there’s a biffa bin there,’ pointing where.
‘They just got rid of a pile of cardboard from behind the takeaway been there for sometime and this lot was under it.’
‘A bit ripe to be sure...but why leave it? I wouldn’t want a customer to see it, not here.’
‘That’s the point, they don’t see it do they?’
‘I suppose not,’ I said. ‘I was stood here watching the birds enjoying themselves - the rats’d have a field day, don’t you think? - anyway, I was here a while before I noticed the smell. Was just about to leave when you came over.’