The Shadows Grew Darker II
Matthew Ryan Fischer
The crows were on the move. They gathered at the covered bridge
and waited.
There were eyes in the darkness. Then movement.
The crows cawed and flapped their wings and turned their heads.
The spirits were about and the broken calm inspired fear and chaos.
Soldiers appeared from the shadows in-between the trees. A scout,
then others. They traveled east to west, along the old roads. Death followed them
close. The spirits were angry. Bloodthirsty.
The crows flapped their wings and made their noise as if in approval.
The soldiers faded away and the night grew quiet.
Then a woman approached. A young blond villager, out after
midnight, perhaps returning from a secret rendezvous. She clutched several loose
papers in her hand. A secret meeting perhaps.
The crows watched.
She paused, noting the bridge was covered in crows.
They watched one another. The crows were silent. Nearly obedient.
She moved slowly. The crows watched her approach, but did not react.
She stepped onto the bridge and began to cross. Suddenly the crows
took off, swirling in the night sky.
The woman ran!
The crows were on the move.
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