The man stared at the buzzard that sat on a post near the river on the boardwalk. It was winter so the man and buzzard were alone. No seagulls swayed, no people strolled, no boats in sight. The buzzard moved closer to the man; right next to him, on the bench that the man sat at. It was cloudy and it rained so the man whispered to the buzzard, " You here for me? You wet your feathers for me?" The buzzard pushed closer to the man and the sky darkened without warning. The buzzard shook itself and then moved onto the mans lap. The man shook too- his family bid him goodbye, and the doctor told them he had passed.