It was 5:38 a.m. exactly when Marietta stepped into her garden.

It was 5:40 exactly when she pulled her pink gardening gloves over her frail and wrinkled hands.

It was 5:41 exactly when she grabbed her metal watering can.

It was was still 5:41 when she started watering her plants. All of her beautiful flowers and trees filled with juicy fruits needed to thrive.

It was 5:43 exactly when she realized her prized tomato plant was dying.

And at 5:45 a.m. exactly, Marietta saw a white crow fly above her head.

She had heard the superstitions a million times. When a crow flies above you, your time is up. But Marietta had only ever seen black crows before, never a white one.

At 5:46 exactly, she muttered,

“What’s a white crow supposed to mean?”

At 5:57 exactly, she decided not to dwell on it. She shrugged, pulled her black cloak over her dress of the same color, and walked back inside her home.

She wondered if the white crow was an outsider, too.