She tells me about her ravens, how she buys frozen meatballs in family packs although she lives alone on Misery Bay. The meatballs are for the ravens. Black wings fan across white snow, and they keep her company. Her two rottweilers developed a taste for the meatballs, too so she fashioned a cement feeder where the dogs can’t get them before the birds.
In North America ravens outsize crows. They flock in fewer numbers, too. Not as murderous as crows, a flock of ravens is merely a conspiracy.
I have no conspiracy theories to share. I wish I could believe as tens of thousands of Americans do — that somehow our horrific school shootings are a CNN conspiracy that employs “crisis actors.” I think the only thing worse than a national crisis is the denial of it. Those who survive are stripped of their validation, diminished to playing bit parts. Where…
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