A Murder of Crows: Five

“Hello!” he said, raising his voice. The volume surprised him because the streets were so quiet.

Raymond walked down the middle of the still street. A cat ran between the wreck of a garbage truck and a Cadillac. Antifreeze mixed with power steering fluid in a greasy pool under the crumpled front of the car. He looked inside at the empty leather seats as he walked by.

He turned right at the first corner he came to and walked up a slight hill. From the rise, he could see a broad intersection where traffic lights dangled from wires over painted lines and worn asphalt. The lights still blinked. He walked toward them. When he passed a shabby, narrow row of houses, a screen door slowly creaked, then suddenly slammed shut.

“Hello!” he said, raising his voice. The volume surprised him because the streets were so quiet.

“I heard you. I heard you!” Raymond said with an accusatory volume. But after the slap of the door, he heard nothing.

A Murder of Crows is a story in parts. Read previous posts here: joewilley.substack.com/t/a-murder-of-crows