He was new in town when I met him. Tall, raven black hair, black eyes and a curious, birdlike face. Yet attractive to the women in our town, who were abuzz about him. He told me he’d been a crow in a former life. And, honestly, in a way, he almost looked like one with his raven black hair and piercing, black eyes. He asked me if I believed him. Though I didn’t want to hurt his feelings, still I had to truthfully say no.
His eyes lit up. He smiled and raised his arms in the air. He cawed three times and sounded just like a crow. As if on command, an enormous flock of crows began cawing and flying toward us. So many flew above us, seemingly thousands, that they darkened the sky until I couldn’t see the sun. I swear, it was like a crow apocalypse. Then they flew in a massive circle above us, resembling a gigantic vortex in the sky. I have to admit it freaked me out by the immensity of the crow flock and the way he magically drew them toward us.
The man, whom I now thought of as crow man, smiled at the shocked look in my eyes, said no need to be frightened. We mean you no harm. He cawed three more times. The crows cawed back, their caws reverberating in the shimmering sky. The crow man smiled again, waved goodbye, and began rising in the air. Astonished, I watched him rise up to the crows, morph into one, and take his place at the head of their gigantic flock, and fly away with them. I felt as if I was in the middle of a surreal dream, or an epic movie, but it was real world, and the crow man was never seen in our town again.
Bob Boyd