Pigeons and Pizza

She throws bits of her pizza crust to the pigeons gliding in from surrounding statues and rooftops. They slide on the polished marble sidewalk as they land, making her stifle giggles. As her boyfriend paces in front of her, the birds scatter and dodge his footsteps.

"I can't do this anymore. I'm sick of eating pizza. We need to make more money." His voice has that edge that always grates on her nerves.

"Mmhm," she answers, feeling her energy fade as she focuses on the amusement of watching the pigeons fling pieces of crust around.

He stops pacing and glares at her. "Seriously, we're actually really screwed. If we had to go home right now, we couldn't afford plane tickets."
 
She clenches her jaw at the panic in his voice. She's tired of the constant emotional upheaval, "Yes, I know. But there's no reason why we'd have to go home right now. Money’s coming in next week. We still have fifty Euros. If we eat cheaply, we'll be fine," she says sharply, holding up her half-eaten crust as an example. "You always wanted pizza until we came here," she mutters under her breath.

He continues pacing and mumbles, "Money has to come, it has to come, but from where?"

She throws the rest of the crust away from her, and the pigeons burst into a frenzy of feathers to follow it. Leaning back on the step behind her, she resigns herself to watching him walk back and forth.

"We're going to be fine, just like always," she says snidely under her breath. "Maybe we just need to spend less money on beer."

He ignores her and keeps pacing. She gets distracted by the students in caps and gowns spilling out of the large doors behind her. They excitedly take pictures of each other, framed by the tall white columns.

She turns back to the pacing and muttering. "I just need, like, a sign or something. Something telling me it's on its way."
 
Without warning, a loud pop behind them makes her jump. A shower of multicolored, shiny pieces of foil and tiny euro bills rains down on them. She laughs and brushes them off her dress. Her boyfriend stops in his tracks, his eyes wide like he's witnessed a miracle.
 
"That's it!" he yells.

She frowns, confused, "What's it?"
 
He rushes over to her, "That was the sign! I just asked for a sign that money is on it's way." He pulls a tiny 100-euro note out of her hair. "And look, a sign."

"That's not a sign, that's confetti," she says, realizing she's being contrary.

"No, no, no, it could've been anything! It could've been graduation caps or pandas, but it's moneyyy." He shakes the little euro at her triumphantly. "That's what makes it a sign!"
 
"Ok, that was pretty coincidental," she relents, seeing how excited he is.

"Like it was a sign or something?" he teases as they gather a few of the bills as mementos.
 
"Yes, like it was a sign," she agrees.

"Since money's coming, let's go eat something real. I'm starving," he says, pulling her up off the step.

They walk through the pigeons, toward the smell of cooking meat. She laughs as she notices he's holding a tiny Euro in his hand. "You know that's not real money, right?"