Counting Crows With Fatal Fate
Warning: Slight gore
'Life left the young mother
Her child, broken but beating,
Her lover, beating but broken.
A single crow rested on the windowsill.
The child was growing.
He looked like his mother more and more everyday.
Her eyes
Her smile
Her sense of wonder
His first word was "dada"
His father smiled with awe
While two crows preened each other on the telephone wires.
It was his big day.
Years after he lost the mother to his son, he found someone new
She was beautiful, hilarious, and just as loving as his son's mother had been.
She looked wonderful in white.
Three crows cawed during the vows.
A new child's wails cut into the clear blue sky.
Laughter and tears of joy.
They returned home from the hospital the next day, to the smell of burnt food.
Eldest had tried to make food.
Outside, four crows hopped around a piece of roadkill.
Eldest tried his best.
His best wasn't good enough.
The silver mirror spat lies.
He listened.
Five crows settled on the tree across the street.
Golden child, he was called
Angel.
Sweetie,
Cutie-pie.
Eldest received no title.
He threw rocks at the six crows plucking at garbage bags.
Eldest walked through the rain.
Unkempt beard wetted to his skin.
He tossed the knife into the lake.
Little burst of red as it sank.
He then continued on,
Whistling to himself in the night.
He tossed a chunk of bloody meat,
At the seven crows who watched silently.'
One for sorrow,
Two for mirth,
Three for a wedding,
Four for a birth,
Five for silver,
Six for gold,
Seven a secret, never to be told.
