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A Helping Hand
I was alone in the wilds when I found it, hiking deep in the
Red Cuillin beneath iron skies. I rounded a bend and saw him; a crow trapped in
a baited cage.
He stopped hopping around and looked at me. His eyes
gleaming, knowing, filled with a hideous intelligence. Guttural words sounded
in my mind, harsh, croaking sounds. Instructions.
I crouched by the cage, put my hand between the bars. He
gouged at my palm, greedily devouring the oozing blood until I passed out.
Now I’m in the cage. A trapped bird, frantically screeching
at the man walking away.
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