Like a premonition that the worst was yet to come, he watched the crow pick apart the remains of some sort of animal on the slow country road. It might have been a possum at one point, but it was nothing but decayed road kill now.
Turning away from the large diner window and towards the syrup covered pancakes on his table, he realized he wasn't hungry after all. It had nothing to do with the crow. It had everything to do with Beth.
Flashes of that night came to him-her dark lifeless eyes staring upwards from the cold dark hole.
ns 15.158.61.8da2
