Summer Vacation, Day 46: Ill Tidings?

I woke this morning to a dull grey sky and great cacophony of crow voices shouting from just beyond the trees. The din continues even now. To what end? I don't know. If flocking crows are called a "murder," then this is the most audacious, persistent and outrageous murder I've ever encountered. Does this bode well for my writing? In truth, it may be just the thing ...

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