Corvus C. Row

Hell yeah. Another day. I was still alive.

The light from the sun woke me up. I slowly got up and stretched lightly to jolt myself awake for what was about to be another day in my life. I turned my neck, cracking the joints as I exhaled in relief. I looked beside me and there was my wife, Brachy, still asleep. She was so hot, and everyone else I knew was so jealous that I married her and they didn't.

I sighed. 

Wait, no. No I didn't. I cawed. As loud as I could. I cawed as I jumped off the tree branch that I slept on all night and flapped my way to the ground, cawing and cawing the entire drop down until at the last possible second, right before I would have turned into a black bloody pulp, I spread my black wings and glided safely to the ground. I pecked the shit out of a worm that I saw crawling on the ground and immediately devoured it. 

"Caw, caw," I screamed at the ground, which meant "The early bird does get the worm" in your language. I said it to taunt the worms beneath the earth, to make them fear for their stupid little lives.

Fear for their stupid little lives because I, Corvus C. Row had awakened. I was a goddamn crow. And I was ready to conquer the world.

First things first, essentials. Gotta check if everything's still here, in case parasites turned me into an amputee overnight or something. Wings? Check. Beak? Check. Legs? Looking good. Swag? Never lost it. All systems go, baby.

I jumped up and flapped the hell out of the wind like a crow pimp. I cawed obscenities in the air as I flew through the air because I'm a crow, and nobody can do anything about it. And even if they did, I'd fly away until they can't reach me and talk even more shit, laughing at them.

Eventually, I landed on an orange tiled rooftop near the place where two black stone rivers crossed. I watched the colored lights flicker on and off as the hard shiny giant turtles stopped and went according to the color of the light. As far as I've noticed, the green lights and yellow lights didn't really do anything to the turtles, but as soon as the red light appeared, the turtles stopped, as if hypnotized by some godlike force.

I reminded myself that I have to figure out a way to get that red light, and use it to peck the shit out of the turtles while they're hypnotized.

In the distance, I heard the conversations of those idiot sparrows that always perched on the trees next to the lights.

"Cheeeep whistle whistle tweet tweet chatter chatter," one of them said, which meant "Hey Melos, how's it hanging?"

"Chirp twit twit chit chat whistle chatter chatter," Melos responded, which meant "Pretty good. How's the wife?"

"Twit cheep whistle whistle." "Not bad."

What a bore. I leapt from the roof and flew over the tree. I circled it a few times, before dive-bombing the branch where the two birds stood.

"CAW CAW," I screamed, which meant "Caw caw, motherfuckers" in your language. I swooped between the two song sparrows, barely clipping both with the feathertips of my wings. Startled, they jumped from the branch and flew away, flapping their wings at a hundred miles an hour. I laughed a hearty laugh as I perched myself on the same branch that the two birds just occupied.

Two seconds later, I flew back to the roof I came from. I hated that branch.

A few hours later, I got bored and decided to fly over to the club tree where my homecrows usually hung out. We cawed about the usual stuff. Food we found, female crows we've roosted with, the basketball game that was on last night.

Suddenly, Rhynch, my right-wing man, noticed a punk walking down the white stone river.

"Caw caw!" Rhynch yelled in my ear, which meant "Dude! He's like 15 feet from your nest! He's gonna steal your junk!"

"Caw caw!" I roared back, which meant "Aw hell naw! That's 15 feet too close! Let's f him up!"

"Caw caw!" "Hell yeah, he about to get crow-stomped!" Rhynch screamed and we took to the air.

He looked like a mushroom. He had a black hair that looked like an upside down bowl was plopped on the top of his head. He had a huge black backpack that weighed him down and made him slump forward, like the hunchback that I read from a book that I stole off a college student that I attacked last year. He wasn't looking toward my nest, but regardless, he was damn close. And that meant war. 

"Caw caw caw caw!" Rhynch screamed at the boy, which meant "Move, beyatch! Get out the way! Get out the way!" But of course, the stupid hairless monkey thing remained ignorant, and didn't heed our warning.

So we attacked. Rhynch first. He dove down some distance behind the boy, swooped up, and struck the boy right in the top of the head with his stomach. The boy reeled forward and gripped his scalp with his hand. He was obviously surprised.

Rhynch landed on a roof and started screaming at the boy. "Caw caw caw!" "Yeah, that's right, better walk away! You're lucky I didn't scalp you, you wiggle!"

My turn. I dove down, preparing to swoop and hit him on the head, just like Rhynch, but right as I was about to strike, the boy turned around and faced me. I ended up decking him right in his stupid little face. His neck recoiled with such force that a satisfying snap from his neck twig came our.

He fell back. He was dead.

I stood on his nose and periodically pecked at his eyeballs. Rhynch glid down too.

"Caw caw caw!" He screamed into my ear, which here means "Jackpot! We eatin' fine tonight, man!"

"Caw caw!" "Hell yeah!"

And that day was the greatest crow day ever.

Author's Note: Let me set something straight here. I have a love-hate relationship with crows. I, for one, respect their avian intelligence. I find them a very interesting and respectable species and, if possible, would like to reincarnate as one.

But holy crap, do I hate it when they attack me on my way home.

So as their attacks went on, I got to thinking. Maybe they had some sort of superiority complex because of their intelligence? Apparently so, based on their indiscriminate attacks on people, their obnoxious, loud caws, and their general dickish nature. 

So in honor of the crows that flock around the 7-11 on the way to my house that won't stop until I'm killed by their talons, here's a story I wrote from the point of view of a modern, supremist crow. Complete with attacks and cawing. Wrote it while running on five hours of sleep with no nap and a huge migraine, so I think this classifies as my first sleep deprived story. The first of many, I promise you that. Much shorter and less deep than most of my other stories partly because I had less days to work on it since I fell behind last week. I'll be working on something much deeper for next week's release, don't you worry.