The Birds Know All
I woke up, feeling like there were cotton balls stuffed up my head. I was immediately reminded of why I was awoken.
It sounded like crows; I looked around briefly—the light in the room was pronounced, but not much, sort of like a gray hue. I decided it was early morning.
The harsh calls of the birds grated through the windows, and I sat in bed, thinking that it’d be over in a few seconds.
Instead, it kept going.
Finally I got up from my bed and threw open the shutters irritably. What I saw made my jaw drop to my chest.
Crows were congregated on the stone ground, hustling over each other, black feathers flying everywhere.
“Mom! Look what’s going on!” I called, and my mother got up from bed, rubbing her eyes.
“What could possibly…oh, my word,” she breathed, looking out the window.
My mom went to her bed, and on a hunch, snatched up the radio on her nightstand. She flipped the switch.
“We interrupt our program to bring you breaking news : there has just been a 6.5 Richter earthquake in Rhodes…”