They watched in silence, by design blending with their surroundings, unnoticed by the passing motorists. They were waiting for the perfect time to make their move.
It was early in the day and there was a steady flow of traffic — too much activity for them to do anything but watch — too dangerous now. But, they were patient. Their time would come.
And then, when the sun was high in the sky, the traffic gradually stopped and they were alone with their prey.
The murder of crows swooped down from the high branches of the trees where they had been waiting and had their mid-day meal of road kill, in leisure. They would be safely back in the trees before the going-home traffic on the road started (and, with any luck, supplied another meal!).
Inspired by a conversation I had with “multi-pierced and tatooed girl” who sits next to me in my writing class. She gave me her latest story to read called, “The Murder.” It involved “a flock” of crows that she told me are sometimes called “a murder.”
