I slip off my shoes and bound up the stairs. I loosen my tie and flop onto my bed onto to feel something hard under my pillow. I lift it to reveal the mangled corpse of a black bird.

My mind sends me back to this afternoon when I struck a bird down in the road, rushing to get home.

This was that bird.

How? How did it get here, in my room. What did it mean.

I become aware of the sound of a shrill laughter coming from outside my window and I turn to see a murder of crows staring me down with their beady black eyes.

I guess it’s true what they say about them, crows really do hold grudges.