it is the raven with death not owl

“I’m sorry.”

The old man sat there shaking his head slowly and she noticed tears fall from his eyes. They crawled their way down past his wrinkles and landed on his blue kerchieft making dark blue circles.

“No no no … I’m being a softy again.”

Her eyes started to sting as she willed herself not to cry. She turned her head away embarrassed and focused on the raven sitting on the branch outside his window. Raven’s black eyes stared coldly at her adding another level of emptiness alongside the tinny notes coming from the old record player playing in the corner.

She stared right into Raven’s eye and felt a sense of falling allowing the depth of color to draw her in. She defiantly met his gaze and didn’t bow to his powers. She felt her heart sinking and knew that somewhere in the near future a message was coming.

“Have I made you sad?” His voice cut off their chance meeting of souls and she looked away from Raven half out of relief half out of fear.

Looking back at the gentleman she focused on the crinkles around his eyes and the way the light glinted off his pupils. She preferred his eyes to that of the Raven. They were more kind and though they held pain, they were filled with history and memories that he shared with her. She understood his emotions and she didn’t know that she would ever understand that of Raven’s.

“No not at all … please continue your story. I’ll switch the record over and we can have another cup of Earl Grey.”

She smiled at him and rose from the table. As she poured boiling water from the kettle to the ceramic pot she felt an uneasy feeling thicken the atmosphere. Fearing that Raven was still spying on her she looked out the window to where he was perched and felt a protective urge to shoo him away. In helplessness she looked to her elderly companion and understood the origin of her fear.

Raising her gaze to Raven he smirked at her briefly and then proceeded to fly off into the grey afternoon.

Calmly she walked back to the table and placed the tea pot’s spout to her companion’s tea cup and poured him the warm burgundy liquid that brought them together. She measured out the sugar and poured a bit of cream, stirred the mixture with the spoon and watched as he brought the cup to his lips.

Casting her eyes downward she felt her own tears fall and create dark circles on her pants.

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