Exclusive: Crows Cackle

The morning sky was dark, wind flowed around the sharp black claws of a small black body that was perched at the top…

The sweet aroma of aloe vera incense glided slowly throughout their home on the back of small gusts of wind. The back door was open, with a thin gap around half an inch in width.

Halloween had long since passed, weeks before this very night. I must press that a bonfire glitters brightly in the hungry eyes of the black one that sat in silence on the peak of a squidgy surface.

Three unworthy cries go out, as a plea of anguish to the moon that glows creating a dull sparkle in one set of eyes. They believed that in this life, God will hear them out and answer them in a timely fashion.

Like ASAP!

SOS!

HELP!

A sharp snap was felt a little way down from where a black ball of well-preened feathers grows.

Pop! went the spine of ignorance, whose behaviour was noted down in a carefully monitored situation.

‘Moody.’

‘Moody swings.’

‘Moody,’ whispers glide through the night sky.

An even louder pop came out just as the black one’s claw pierced through a spine. The lump wailed ‘forgive me! I promise I’ll try better next time.’

The black plumage paused and tilted its head to the left. Sapphire eyes looked magical and glistened with moonshine and fire. Don’t you agree?

The black boulder glanced up at the sky, a look of satisfaction to the Lord. Why not ask to be saved from God or maybe even Mary at a stretch? Why only plead for forgiveness, under the turmoil of fear and piss scented sweat?

The black sphere of hope did not consider your request.

For your ignorant behaviour had sentenced you to death.

Another disc popped, and yet a few more followed… The fire raged on naturally, the moon continued to shine. The aloe vera incense finished its purpose, yet its last slither of smoke is inhaled by a black beast that smothered a wounded sound.

At the moment a weak whimper fades to a stop, Crow cackles.

A pile was sent up North.

With its tongue and its eyes and hands cut off.

Morning arrives and the day is new

A day is new and a clock keeps ticking.

Crows best friend wakes up and declares, ‘I feel uplifted. Blessed day.’

Crow never heard that common name repeated anywhere in our universe again.

Inspired by Ted Hughes: Crow

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Simon

Simon said he’s single.

Simon said he’s in a dilemma.

Simon said he’ll always be here for me.

Simon said I’ve caused him a great deal of anxiety.

Simon said I’m similar and we have so much in common.

Simon said throw yourself off a cliff Unique!

Unique said nothing.

Unique asked Crow about his technique for keeping his feathers preened so well?

Unique cut out a tiny fragment from her heart and tossed it outside.

Sewer rats came out after 0100 that night and ate her nano-sized love, with one delightful bite.

Nightmare Series: Unique Is…

 A total mindfuck.

A wink and a stare.

Your best friend, who lifts you high into blissful moments.

Your lover, your one and only! A cherry kiss from her red lips.

An enigma.

A dream.

A quiet thought with a pinch of care.

One wrong move and Crow will gut you, right after or just before you ask God for forgiveness.

Unique is this thing that flourishes in your life.

Unique is?

Unique is an amazing thought process, wrapped up in pain and anxiety.

Don’t ask her to choose, life is full of commonplace varieties.

NEVER ask the opinion of everyday society!

Don’t stare too long, Crow will tear you from out of that seat at their table of peace. For one cannot dream of what Unique is, without something good to eat?

Unique is a mixture of warmth and ice, like cookie dough and ice-cream with added observations.

No cinnamon sprinkles, it’s fucking disgusting.

Unique is a plethora of stars made into human form.

Unique is living remnants of our universe from way back when.

Keep asking questions.

Keep watching your shadows.

Did you know, Crow prefers homemade banana bread?

Complete with heartache and suffering and that bitches ignorant head!

Unique is your bestie! Your homie beyond death you’ll never part.

Unique is pure mind-games, surreal like Dali art.

Unique is present, past and your future.

Unique is your tears as they profusely flow.

Unique is the end game and that is no joke.

STOP!

Ssh.

Crow is listening to your thoughts.

Unique is above average in fact beyond the range of online surroundings.

Unique is Pandora’s Box in a misunderstanding.

Unique is the gift of lava burning through your soul.

Unique does not exist in this world, therefore you’ll never know.

Remember to close your windows and lock your doors, the evil one flies through the night…

From the Files of Crow and Unique: Scalpel

What I love most about expression, is that it can be manipulated.

I remember being present.

I remember being present.

I remember being present.

I was once a gift to that aspect you call life.

Imagine for a moment that this next part isn’t staged.

You’re happy.

Very comfortable.

Sitting on a chair that is ergonomically suited for many physical needs.

I’m looking at your eyes, not quite the hue I most value. Your pupils are large – you like me, don’t you?

Nothing matters.

I turn my head slowly to the left and ask, ‘pass the scalpel.’

Crow glides down from a scratched bookcase and gently places it into my left hand.

With my right hand, I pick it up.

I’m delicate but you cry out in pain. I cut round from your left eyebrow down to the corner of your mouth. Crimson blurs the shade of your iris.

**I follow a superficial line around the rest of your face. Then with my scalpel, I gently peel back your skin.**

Slowly with care

Delicately with consideration

Then a tug at the end for good measure.

‘You’re now ready to go out into the world Sir. Show your true identity.

Be the bitch you’ve always been behind most doors.’

Free

I run through the dark forests and no fear resides within.

The birds chant over my head.

Crow flies silently above the treetops.

I remove myself from your pool of toxicity. I breathe.

Explanation Unique?

No.

I owe nothing to no one.

I pay myself in time and appreciation.

The tone of your voice no longer lingers around my thoughts. Forgotten.

I don’t quite recall the shade of your iris.

Hit different.

My mind rests easily upon my mind. I carry it with pride.

The ants march underfoot and look up to catch a glimpse of my deep brown eyes and the glimmers of Crows sapphire blue stares.

I stop at a cliff edge and bellow out all the pain I’ve been holding onto: ‘please don’t deny me!’

Crow lands on my right shoulder, claws deepen into my muscle. Blood flows down my right breast and between my armpit.

Tears bleed out and the scenic image around me is now tinted with red.

I turn my head right and kiss Crow on his head. Bloody tears drip onto his ebony shaded feathers.

I look behind at the forest, then up to the sky.

‘It hit different!’ I cry.

And like that with no apprehension, I leap out and we both plummet through the misty confusion you cursed me with. I hear you crying. It warms my heart, speed picks up and I look at Crow – he’s smiling.

A rock scraps my left ankle. My bloody tears jump and float above us

Into the skies, deep into our universe and sprinkle across our sun

The evidence we never aligned.

With grey slapping my face I whisper ‘please don’t deny me.’

The fog clears and presents a deep blue pool of nothingness. Crow and I plunge into the icy waters.

The liquid clears every speck of blood away from us. My vision is clear, I see black!

I see black.

I see only black.

Then I turn to my right and see two glows from Crow’s sapphire blue eyes. He looks up and they beam out the most intense blue light.

We drift up, breaking through the surface of the water

Crow bellows out ‘and then Unique was free, and then Unique was free and then Unique was free!’

The icy water forces us into the sky and through our universe – we both hit the centre of the sun.

Crow: 100 Followers

📸Unique

     ‘Unique! Guess what day it is today?’

     ‘Sunday the 12th of July.’

     ‘But Unique, guess what day it is today?’

     ‘I’ve just guessed.’

     ‘Try again!’

He opens the blinds in my bedroom and although it’s 0444 the sky is pitch black.

I blink a few times and then rub my eyes.

     I noticed his sapphire blue eyes are gleaming now, Crow is happy. Elated in fact. I slip out of bed and say, ‘what happened the sun?’

     ‘Unique, don’t you know what day it is today?’

     ‘Crow, sweetie, I’ve already told you – Sunday the 12th of July 2020’

I then wink at Crow and head into the bathroom. I’m guessing I’m imagining the blackness outside. Maybe the time is wrong, and I’ve been woken up in the middle of the night? Either way, something is off today.

I brush my teeth.

I squeeze a large portion of coconut shower gel onto my navy-blue washcloth and wash away the night before.

A fine ballad of tweeting reverberates through our home and shakes the blueberry candle, just a little.

I dry off, dress and apply the perfect layer of Ruby Woo by Mac on my lips.

I enter the kitchen and look around for Crow. He’s not here – he’s usually eating bagels by the time I finish getting ready. I glance outside and see that it’s pitch-black. I check my watch and see the time is 0722. The sun is usually out by now.

I walk cautiously out into the hallway and slowly open the front door. The sweet song from above is utterly divine. I’m looking up and above my house is a? Well, what looks like a giant-size sheet of? Black. I walk down the driveway and hum along with the blackness above me. I recognise this tune, only I’ve never heard it in this manner. Piano Sonata No. 14 Beethoven

The shape above me looks like a triangle, off in the distance I see sunlight and at the very front of this black triangle, I notice a glint of blue.

The blue moves forward, separating itself from the shape. And there I realise Crow has grown – at a guess, he’s 3 metres long and his sapphire blue eyes are the size of Granny Smith apples.

He swoops down toward me, shouting, ‘UNIQUE GUESS WHAT DAY IT IS?’

I smile as he lands right beside me, his jet-black feathers blowing the last few shower droplets out of my sapphire blue braids. I stroke his left-wing and whisper, ‘we now have 100 followers!’

Crow squawks to the black plume above and that’s when I see a murder of 100 crows breakaway from one another and release blue sparkly words of love and appreciation.

They then disperse and fly away in different directions, across our universe.

Crow and I stand at the end of our driveway and salute all of you!

Thank you.

Love

Crow & Unique