One day as I sat and drank tea alone, a crow flew in through my open window. “I did not ask for visitor upon this dreary day.” The crow although, did almost nothing in reply but c*** his head to the side.

“You see, I was perfectly content sitting here drinking my tea until you popped your feathered head into my windowsill.” I added pointedly. But the crow did nothing but c*** his head to the side.

“Are you bird or an Angel of Death?” I inquired while sipping my tea with my facial expression still calm and uninspired. But of course, the crow did nothing but c*** his head to the side.

A certain rage was descending upon me now, at this uncouth visitor’s lack of retort. “Oh you unsightly thing! Oh you Angel of despair! Why do you disturb me now? Be gone from my house and leave me to my tea and chair!” But the crow said nothing and simply cocked his head to the side.

“Be gone from me!” I wailed and sobbed. I threw my tea and words but the crow still stood unscathed. I ran amuck throwing chairs and books. But still the crow stuck around watching me with quizzical looks. So I sank upon the wall in despair, with the crow’s head still tilted; still there.

I’m afraid to say I still remain there today, hobbled against that wall. My head is muddled and crazy eyed. And next to me upon the sill, lies a crow questioning me still; pondering my sanity with his head simply cocked to the side.