Nothing

He was cold to her.

Suddenly a low cackling like the bang of wooden blocks approaching and insistent. What spirit or salesman has come to visit me he thought throwing on his robe and bidding his wife cover herself and wait for him inside.

Coming to the door he saw the source of the noise, a crow flying fast across the field and with insolence cackling loudly.

—It’s nothing. Just a crow.

The crow did slatternly circles in the air as it went from tree to tree. Before it a hunching owl seethed through the branches.

His wife came to stand next to him.

—Look, he said.

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