My friend, John.

bird

While I was preparing dinner, this bird flew right into my kitchen through the window and perched on the kitchen counter when I wasn’t looking.

It was when I turned around and spotted him that he quickly flew back out.

I shouted, “Hi, John! What are you doing here?” as he perched on the cemented ledge.

He cocked his head a couple of times, eyeing me and flew off.

Why did I call him John?

I have no idea.

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