The crow calls me on the telephone. The caller i.d. repeats,
mechanically,
“a bird, a bird” and I pick up. Before I speak, the crow says
“I
didn’t want you.” “No one else is home,” I say. “I’ve
never
wanted you.” “That’s okay,” I reply. “That’s why I’m
calling
you, to tell you I’ve never wanted you.” “Okay,
should
I say goodbye now?” “Not until I tell you to say
anything
more. I hear you breathing. I don’t like that
either.”
.
John Levy
Picture Rupert Loydell
.