“As she sat out on her back porch, peeling a bucket of early apples, Hettie scanned the skies for that bird. For the past few weeks, a raven the size of a small vulture had started visiting her porch. As soon as Hettie would come outside, he’d fly away. She knew it was the same one visiting though, because through her window she could see, in the outline of its body, that its right wing had a whole section missing, like he’d gotten caught in a cage or something. He wasn’t a particularly comforting presence, all sooty black, something waiting to turn to ash, and his piercing caws had woken her twice in the middle of the night.”

Original excerpt from Birdenwheel by Lindsay Anne Rice

#deadhead #gratefuldead #birdenwheel