The day after her husband’s funeral, a crow crashed into Vera Scott’s patio door. At first, she overlooked the small black body on the other side of the glass. The collision’s hollow thump had been so loud she had expected something larger to have caused it.
She kneeled and picked up the motionless bird. Lined above them in the trees, a murder of crows assembled. Cawing, they hopped from limb to limb—loud, black-clad mourners.
Tired of death, she willed the bird to stir. A shiny eye blinked. With a rustle of ebony feathers, the crow flew—hollow bones lifted weightless.
Elegantly beautiful!
Ah, the power in the magic of love. A beautiful short story.
A lot said in a few words.
Breathtaking.
Beautiful story bringing light out of darkness connecting humanity with nature loved the ending. Wonderfully written
What a lovely portrayal of hope.
Love this! So spiritual!
???? Lovely
Love this story of hope despite grief.
Beautiful balance between life and death, grieving and giving.