crow story
A friend of mine posted this story-starter and I had to finish it.
The old hag had insisted her locked diary be buried with her in the casket. Her white hair created a halo around
her head in the simple pine box. The townsfolk were afraid to miss her funeral, on All Hallow's Eve of
all days! After all she'd done in her living years, who knew what she had in store for them after her passing?
Nobody noticed when one tiny girl reached into the casket, grabbed the tattered, leatherbound tome, and hid it inside her coat.
Suddenly a large, bony hand grabbed her tiny wrist. "Put it back!" hissed the old woman's corpse. "Put it back now!”
The girl muttered a quick spell under her breath, and the old hand fell limp and lifeless again. The girl quickly hurried away; she was pleased the spell had worked. She had only used it twice before, on live people. One was a weird guy on the bus who snuck his hand onto her knee. The other was a girl in her class who seemed to hate her for no reason she could ever figure out. That girl had grabbed her by her hair in the bathroom at school when nobody else was around.
UNLICENSED PRODUCT. Most features are turned off because a shared computer license isn’t available. To use
These features, close Outlook, restart it, and sign in with your Microsoft 365 account.
The girl headed home, eager to read the big book. She slipped inside the house, made her way to her room, and sat down inside her closet with the door open. She opened the book and began slowly flipping through it.
Immediately she was disappointed. It seemed like every spell was in a different foreign language. She had no Idea what the words meant. But as she flipped through, her eye caught a picture of a large, jovial-looking crow. This spell was in German, a language Grandpa Gus spoke.
“Einer mit den Krähen,” she read. But what did that mean? Krähen, she figured, must mean crow or crows. She recognized “mit den” as “with the” from words Grandpa Gus had said. With the crows? But what did “einer” mean? Could it mean friends? Was this a spell to become friends with the crows? The crow in the picture certainly looked friendly.
She sounded the spell out phonetically and poof! She looked down to see her feet were black claws. Instead of arms she had wings. And when she tried to cry out, “Oh, no!” She heard only a squawking noise.
Einer, ein - one. She had become one with the crows.
She was a crow.
“Great,” she thought. “I can’t read the book, can’t try saying the spell backwards.” “What do I do?”
“Fly,” said a voice in her head. “You can fly now. Fly.”
She turned to look, and there was her cat Sylvester, a beautiful black short-hair with golden eyes.
“You recognize me?” she asked in her mind.
“Of course.”
“Fly. I ought to be able to fly.”
“Give it a try.”
But how to get out of the house? Wait - the doggie door! Sylvester had a “doggie door” so he could go outside on the catio - a patio with a fence too tall and smooth for him to climb. But she could just fly over the fence. If she could fly.
How do birds even walk, anyway? She remembered birds kind of hopping around. She tried it. Hop hop hop. It seemed to work. She hopped over to the doggie door, and went outdoors. Sylvester followed.
Now, how to fly?
“Wind beneath my wings,” she thoughtt, “like that sappy song.” She lifted her wings and started feeling for the air currents. Her crow body seemed to know what to do, and as she flapped, she lifted her body to the top of the fence.
“Watch out for dogs,” she heard Sylvester say, “and cats, And bigger birds like hawks and eagles. And people with BB guns, or rocks. Make that people in general. And -“
But she was already lifting off into that gorgeous blue sky.
The girl’s mother looked out the windows. She thought something might be wrong, what with Sylvester making such a racket. But no, he was just sitting there, chittering at some bird.
Flying was incredible. She simply knew no words to describe it. She had always thought it would be like floating, but with the air currents so firm it was more like surfing. Or sledding. Or ice skating. Nope. No words to describe it.
She didn’t go too far from home. She liked seeing otherwise familiar things from a bird’s eye view. She remembered all the things Sylvester warned her about.
As it got dark, she headed home. Maybe she could sleep on the catio, or even find a place in the house somewhere. But as she approached her home, she felt her body get heavier and her flying get lower until her feet (real human feet) touched the Earth.
She walked into the house. “There you are,” said her mom. “Want anything special for dinner?”
“Sunflower seeds and gummy worms,” she said. “And use the shiny plates.”
She picked up Sylvester and snuggled him. “I can’t wait,” she whispered in his ear, “to try it again! And to try all the other spells, too!”
That night after dinner she went to bed, and dreamed of flying.
The End
The old hag had insisted her locked diary be buried with her in the casket. Her white hair created a halo around
her head in the simple pine box. The townsfolk were afraid to miss her funeral, on All Hallow's Eve of
all days! After all she'd done in her living years, who knew what she had in store for them after her passing?
Nobody noticed when one tiny girl reached into the casket, grabbed the tattered, leatherbound tome, and hid it inside her coat.
Suddenly a large, bony hand grabbed her tiny wrist. "Put it back!" hissed the old woman's corpse. "Put it back now!”
The girl muttered a quick spell under her breath, and the old hand fell limp and lifeless again. The girl quickly hurried away; she was pleased the spell had worked. She had only used it twice before, on live people. One was a weird guy on the bus who snuck his hand onto her knee. The other was a girl in her class who seemed to hate her for no reason she could ever figure out. That girl had grabbed her by her hair in the bathroom at school when nobody else was around.
UNLICENSED PRODUCT. Most features are turned off because a shared computer license isn’t available. To use
These features, close Outlook, restart it, and sign in with your Microsoft 365 account.
The girl headed home, eager to read the big book. She slipped inside the house, made her way to her room, and sat down inside her closet with the door open. She opened the book and began slowly flipping through it.
Immediately she was disappointed. It seemed like every spell was in a different foreign language. She had no Idea what the words meant. But as she flipped through, her eye caught a picture of a large, jovial-looking crow. This spell was in German, a language Grandpa Gus spoke.
“Einer mit den Krähen,” she read. But what did that mean? Krähen, she figured, must mean crow or crows. She recognized “mit den” as “with the” from words Grandpa Gus had said. With the crows? But what did “einer” mean? Could it mean friends? Was this a spell to become friends with the crows? The crow in the picture certainly looked friendly.
She sounded the spell out phonetically and poof! She looked down to see her feet were black claws. Instead of arms she had wings. And when she tried to cry out, “Oh, no!” She heard only a squawking noise.
Einer, ein - one. She had become one with the crows.
She was a crow.
“Great,” she thought. “I can’t read the book, can’t try saying the spell backwards.” “What do I do?”
“Fly,” said a voice in her head. “You can fly now. Fly.”
She turned to look, and there was her cat Sylvester, a beautiful black short-hair with golden eyes.
“You recognize me?” she asked in her mind.
“Of course.”
“Fly. I ought to be able to fly.”
“Give it a try.”
But how to get out of the house? Wait - the doggie door! Sylvester had a “doggie door” so he could go outside on the catio - a patio with a fence too tall and smooth for him to climb. But she could just fly over the fence. If she could fly.
How do birds even walk, anyway? She remembered birds kind of hopping around. She tried it. Hop hop hop. It seemed to work. She hopped over to the doggie door, and went outdoors. Sylvester followed.
Now, how to fly?
“Wind beneath my wings,” she thoughtt, “like that sappy song.” She lifted her wings and started feeling for the air currents. Her crow body seemed to know what to do, and as she flapped, she lifted her body to the top of the fence.
“Watch out for dogs,” she heard Sylvester say, “and cats, And bigger birds like hawks and eagles. And people with BB guns, or rocks. Make that people in general. And -“
But she was already lifting off into that gorgeous blue sky.
The girl’s mother looked out the windows. She thought something might be wrong, what with Sylvester making such a racket. But no, he was just sitting there, chittering at some bird.
Flying was incredible. She simply knew no words to describe it. She had always thought it would be like floating, but with the air currents so firm it was more like surfing. Or sledding. Or ice skating. Nope. No words to describe it.
She didn’t go too far from home. She liked seeing otherwise familiar things from a bird’s eye view. She remembered all the things Sylvester warned her about.
As it got dark, she headed home. Maybe she could sleep on the catio, or even find a place in the house somewhere. But as she approached her home, she felt her body get heavier and her flying get lower until her feet (real human feet) touched the Earth.
She walked into the house. “There you are,” said her mom. “Want anything special for dinner?”
“Sunflower seeds and gummy worms,” she said. “And use the shiny plates.”
She picked up Sylvester and snuggled him. “I can’t wait,” she whispered in his ear, “to try it again! And to try all the other spells, too!”
That night after dinner she went to bed, and dreamed of flying.
The End