Crow Soul

crow

I see its shadow first. The shadow of the one with the big humped shoulders. The misshapen, distorted shadow flits across my open newspaper like a dark breath.

Then comes the cawing – a raucous cacophony. The sky is full of crows.

While the other crows circle and shriek, the hump-shouldered crow sits in the tree beside my chair, silent. Its eyes are blank and dull, its feathers mangy and moth-eaten, showing bald patches on its stomach and head. We stare at each other. I’m the first to look away.

The flock of crows takes off into the woods. Only the hump-shouldered crow remains. I Continue reading

At Dinnertime, As The Crows Gather

She’s decided on macaroni.

What could possibly go wrong with macaroni? All you have to do is to boil it, then smother it in cheese sauce.

It’s absolutely essential that nothing go wrong.

Jon, Timothy, Sol, Freddie, Barry, Hugo, Ryan… what disasters she’d had with the meals she’d cooked for them.

Martin would eat her macaroni and love it.

She opens the fridge door, takes out cheese, cream, pepper, then pulls out the drawer for the cheese grater, a kitchen utensil she’s always been fond of.

No, no, Martin is absolutely not a shredded cheese guy. He’s more spicy tomato.

She replaces the cheese and cream in the fridge. Reaches for the last two tomatoes that remain in the plastic tub, some red pepper. She slices the slimy soft edges off the red pepper.

A soft rustling sound outside.

crowIt’s only the crows. They always gather around dinnertime. In the trees, on the Continue reading