crows

It was chilly. Even though it was right after dawn, it should not be chilly. It was the end of May for fucks sake. In this part of the world, no matter the time, starting this month, and all the way till August, it was never chilly. It was chilly. No matter, a few miles in, and he would be warm. But still. He glanced around as he galloped past. The green was lush, immaculately trimmed. The peacocks cowed. The males putting up their feathers, a shield of pure, virgin white, snow like feathers rising from their backside. Two males. A handful of females in the enclosure. The males were loud. And then he was past them. He looked to his left. Where was the carcass, he wondered. There had been a dead bird there a few days ago, crows picking on its flesh, snapping at one another, flapping off with indignation, and then returning soon thereafter. A hawk perched atop a pole watching them with eagle eyes. Proud. Head shifting to watch him, unblinking as he ran by. It wasn’t there anymore. The carcass. He wondered who they asked to pick it up. It was highly unlikely that the officers themselves had dirtied their hands by touching a dead thing. Probably a sweeper. Probably Christian. Like the ad in the papers for sweepers. Only Christians should apply. The one that had offended the sensibilities of the liberals. Honestly, they were fine with the atrocities in this place as long as they didn’t have to see them. But put the atrocities in front of them, and like angry, beating donkeys, they would begin to shout and guffaw. Indignant. Protesting. He passed by the spot again. He looked for the carcass again. It truly was not there. He loved running. He loved this park. The smell of cicadas. The green lush lawn glowing softly under the rising sun. The sounds of wildlife. Peacocks in cages, ducks roaming free. Crows, eagles. Hawks. He could taste the early morning on his tongue. Could feel the gravel as he pounded away at it with every step.

Two more rounds. He looked at his watch. He was half done. But now he was in the rhythm. Now it didn’t matter. Now he would flow through the rest in a state of bliss. He closed his eyes and kept running. A crow was pecking on the ground as he ran. He wondered if it would move out of the way. He was much closer to it now. It still didn’t move. He made to swerve out of its way, and it finally moved. In the same direction. He changed course, and swerved the other way. It flew with him till it reached a pole, and perched there as he ran away. Second round, it was still there, cocking its head. Watching him with curious eyes. The sun hid behind some clouds. A series of caws that somehow he knew only he heard. Crows alighting upon anything they could find. All staring at him. He slowed down. They rushed towards him. He was caught in the swarm.