Another quick story drafted for fun tonight:

A solitary crow perched on the window ledge, peering through a broken pane. The house was old, weathered, and abandoned, yet some items and furniture remained in the main room. One object held the crow’s focus: a photograph in a silver frame resting on the mantel of the fireplace. Something about the face in the picture was familiar, yet he could not quite remember why. A lifetime of memories seemed just beyond his reach, slipping through his grasp.

What was missing, he did not know. He sat there silently, staring at the photograph as if it might suddenly unlock the secrets long lost to him. The crow was ancient; beyond time itself. At first glance, he appeared as any old crow, but a closer look at his tail feathers revealed an intriguing hint of a white glow beneath some of the darker feathers.

A storm moved in from the west as night fell. The wind picked up and thunder rumbled deep, as if trying to shake the very earth. Then came the rain.

Still, the crow did not move. He remained fixated on the face in the photograph. He briefly considered moving inside for a closer inspection, but a sense told him he could not enter the house. As he continued to stare, lost in his efforts to reach the elusive memories, the storm finally arrived. The wind and rain washed away the old black plumage that had long since lost its youthful luster. With each gust and droplet, his black feathers fell away, revealing a luminous white crow. When the last black feather drifted down, the storm erupted with a thunderous boom that shook the very foundation of the house.

Startled, the crow spun around and glared up at the sky. Angry at being disturbed, he cawed three times at the sky in defiance. Just as he was about to turn back to his previous fixation, a faint caw was carried to him on the wind drawing his attention. Something about that soft call pulled at the very core of his being. Without hesitation, he spread his wings and soared into the darkest part of the storm, his glowing feathers fading as he disappeared from sight. Behind him, the old house was struck by lightning and consumed in flames. What had once captivated him was now lost to time; turned to ash, then dust.