As The Crow Flies
by Ron Pruitt
Copyright 2011 by Ron Pruitt
Also by Ron Pruitt on Smashwords
Down By The River, a novel
Meth Lab and Other Stories
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When he pulled into the drive there was a dead crow lying in the front yard and a flock of crows was making passes, squawking in raucous anger. He parked his old rig and walked over to the bird, trying to understand what had happened. His best guess was that it had flown into the electrical line which passed overhead nearby or had perhaps alighted there and been electrocuted. But he was just guessing. The rain had stopped and the crow lay very still and small on the brown grass and the flock was upset, warning him with wild screeching to leave the downed crow alone. Some of the brasher birds dived at his hat, passing just out of reach and he lowered his head, partly in protection but mostly in solemnity.