London Fog

(5 minute read)

I’m not in London. I’m in Brooklyn. The fog isn’t here. It’s in London. I wish I was in London, but I’m not, so I went to a cafe and ordered a London Fog. It’s a nice, sweet-tasting tea that makes me feel English.

I started taking my clothes off in the cafe because I was hot. My mind told me not to, because it’s inappropriate. “You’re a socially unacceptable creature if you do this! Don’t you get naked! Last time you got naked, they made you feel bad!”

I decided to compromise with my mind. “Shut up, will you stop bitching if I keep my pants on?”

“Yes,” the mind responded.

“Good, because I need to make music, and your thoughts are interfering!”

First, I took my hat off, then my coat, then my t-shirt. I have similar chest hair to Austin Powers, but much puffier. I have a singing petting bird that lives inside my chest hair. It’s like a nest for him. I named him Luther, after Luther Vandross, the singer.

People are glancing at me, and when I glance at them, they act like they didn’t glance. I suspected this would happen. People are curious but act like they’re not. Just own up to it, I think. Why act like Luther isn’t a big deal?

Luther began to sing, and everyone gave in. They all stared. Everyone was amazed, amused—you name it, they were feeling it.

Now people started taking their shirts off. I’d never seen this before. Everyone in the cafe stripped and had chest hair and pet birds like me. Everyone’s bird sang in sync with Luther. The cafe became a bird band—the first one the world had ever seen, right here in Brooklyn.

The birds flew around the cafe, each one leaving colorful wakes behind them. Luther is a yellow bird, so when he flew around, yellow smoke would trail him. There were about 10 birds flying around and singing. The smoke became dense, and all the people inside the cafe sang with the birds.

People gathered outside to see what was happening. The crowd was growing. People were in shock. “What the fuck?” expressions ran across the faces in the mob. Don’t ask me how people were so quick to react, but it turned into a protest. It was as if they were anticipating this to happen.

People held up signs that said, “No more bird bands!” “Kill the birds,” and “God save us from the bird singers.”

The bird people started to dance and laugh at the protestors. Everyone got naked because of how free they felt. The crowd started reacting even more. They started banging on the cafe windows and shoving their faces into the glass.

My mind started firing off. “If they don’t like it, why don’t they just leave? Why are they trying to stop us?”

Within 5 minutes, the police barged in through the front door. The birds started to sing “fuck tha police” by N.W.A. The police drew their badges and shouted at the birds. The police pulled out doughnuts from their pockets and tried to lure the birds in so they could capture them.

Singing birds only eat cherries, but the cops didn’t know that. Next thing we knew, Joe Biden showed up.

“I’m the… I’m the… I’m the…” Biden stammered, his eyes wide as he tried to make sense of the chaos unfolding in front of him.

“President?” a cop murmured.

“I’m the president!” Biden shouted, his voice gaining confidence. “You’re all under arrest. This is the United States of America, and this is forbidden! Officers, pull out your guns!”

Guns were drawn. “Fire!” Biden commanded. Each time a bird got shot, their owners died too. Instead of blood pouring out of their bodies, colored smoke exploded out of them. The birds and people were dropping like flies, but each time a bird died, Luther grew in size, speed, and color. Now, he was multicolored like a rainbow.

Biden tried to steady himself, but the sight of the birds in full song threw him off his game. “I’m… I’m the…” he stammered, looking around. His voice grew louder with each word. “I’m the president! You can’t do this!” He paused, unsure if anyone was buying it. The birds responded by flying in tighter circles, singing louder. Biden took a deep breath, pulled out his phone, and muttered, “I’ll tweet about this later!”

The cops couldn’t catch Luther. He was too fast. All the other birds and owners died. It was me and good old Luther. I hid under a table and was safe from being seen. The smoke made it easy for me to hide. I whistled to Luther, and he swooped in under the table. We gave each other high-fives and then we said a prayer for all the birds and people who just died.

Donald Trump showed up the exact moment we finished the prayer. He and Biden started fighting immediately because Donald had no business being here. Inauguration day was still 20 days away. That was Biden’s reason for fighting.

Trump had another reason. He ripped open his shirt and a bird popped out of his chest! He was a bird man too! His bird was very small. It was the color of his skin. Some type of orange.

Biden grabbed Trump’s bird and bit its head off. Donald died along with his bird.

My mind told me, “They just killed Trump! You’re next, go, get the fuck out of here!”

I got on top of Luther’s back, and we flew through the cafe window. The glass shattered all over the crowd’s faces.

They bled to death like the bird people in the cafe. So sad…

Luther and I got away.

As Luther and I soared higher, the city sprawling below us like a dreamscape of steel and glass, I couldn’t shake the feeling that something had shifted in the world. The sky was still heavy with smoke from the cafe, the air thick with the echoes of song and gunfire. The people, the birds—had they really existed? Or were they just a symbol of something greater?

Luther’s wings beat steadily, but I could sense his restlessness. He wasn’t just flying away from something; he was flying toward something.

“Where are we going, Luther?” I whispered into the wind.

His feathers fluttered, and for a moment, I swore I heard the faintest hum of a song—one that didn’t belong to any bird, but to something much older. Something eternal.

But then, in the distance, I saw it: a shadow rising above the skyline, a new kind of storm. Was it the world catching up with us? Or was it just the beginning of something else?

I didn’t know. All I knew was we were no longer just two beings, but something more. Something that couldn’t be undone.

And for the first time, I wondered if we were meant to save the world, dream it, or destroy it.