Brialee Turner

She stood waiting at the window, watching the raindrops flow downward in a riverlike pattern towards the dense greenery surrounding the house. A velvet crow flew from one of the bushes from across the street and landed on a tree to the left. It seemed to be weightless and ominous simultaneously. The crow cocked its head as if contemplating its next move and then titled its beak downward as if in decision. In an instant it moved its wings out again and flew off out of sight.

She let out a sigh, wishing that she was the bird who could be powerful and yet lightweight, and who could move where and when it wanted without a second thought. It could fly anywhere. It could be weightless.