Gray

(Prequel to Crows)

I rode my bike, cruising along the road. Some crows screeched overhead. I always hated those things. Nasty, filthy, and gray, indecent enough to eat roadkill.

As I rode, I saw a dead cat, and gasped. The poor thing had gotten hit. t seemed like a black cat was standing over it, mourning. I braked my bike and leaned it over, running to the cat. What I thought was another black cat was actually two crows, ripping it apart.

I tried to shoo the crows away, but they only hopped away a foot, screeching, and came back to it, snagging another piece of the poor creature.

I got angry.

I should have thought ahead.

Because crows never forget a face.

I picked up a large rock and flung it at the crows. It hit one square in the beak and it hopped away, staggering into flight. The other one glared at me. I flung another rock. It fluttered up, but I managed to hit its leg.

They both cawed angrily, dive-bombing me. I dodged and picked up my bike, boarding it and speeding off.

I managed to out-pedal them, but they followed me to my home. And each day after that, they would always attack me when I went into the driveway, unless someone was with me.

But no matter how much I hated those crows, I regretted nothing. Sometimes, I still mourn the little cat with the gray fur.