A Murder of Crows: Three

Around him, sounds he had never heard were as jarring as the caws of a murder of crows.

Like eyes struggling to adjust to a dark room, his mind reeled with the sudden isolation. He thought he saw people walking, some he saw standing. But the corners of his eyes tricked him and wickedly taunted his mind. Standing in the sun, he started to sweat.

The rays made his skin burn, and yet he stared around. Smoke now rose in the direction of the center of town. He walked across the highway and down the street that intersected the four-lane strip and ran toward the courthouse. More smoke smudged the sky over squat buildings lining the street. Cars and trucks were in disarray. Raymond walked to the front doors of some businesses he had known since boyhood and looked in; they were vacant—abandoned mid-transaction. Receipts, money, and parts were scattered on the floor or counters. Around him, sounds he had never heard were as jarring as the caws of a murder of crows.

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