Once a crow smiled at me. I know you’ll take this for fiction, but I can assure you that this crow smiled. It wasn’t an evil smile and it wasn’t an innocent smile. It was a dreamer’s smile; The kind that preludes all good adventure.

The crow stood in front of a large oak door, placed on the southern side of an old library. I’d often wondered what lie inside. A breeze kicked up all around me, stirring orange leaves in circles. Even the wind itself seemed to whisper.

I walked toward the door, and the crow graciously stepped aside. The antiquated knocker was shaped like a gargoyle, and it peered down at me, sternly. I pushed on the door, hoping to find it unlocked, and slowly the hinges creaked and the door opened. Dust and darkness surrounded me. My throat tightened, and my fist clenched.

Finally the thick black cleared and I gazed into the mystery. I saw… nothing. It was simply a library, and nothing more. I turned and looked dejectedly at the crow. It just smiled and flew off. Crow’s are tricksters.