Raven Us

In the corner of his studio apartment, next to the refrigerator in the kitchen, squatted the hellhound, drooling and staring with flickering red eyes. This still doesn't explain things, the man thought. How, when he came back after a weekend away, he noticed subtle changes - a toothbrush with a single blue stripe on the clear plastic handle and not the dual green stripes he remembered, the purple orchid turned towards the wall and not the sofa, his bills stacked neatly on the microwave (he never stacked anything too neatly).

No way could a bulky muscled hellhound with obsidian toenails do this. Bet he sparked when he walked. More like bearclaws anyway. Nobody else was in the tiny apartment, he'd already put his duffel bag in the walk in closet. Nowhere to hide.

Maybe the ravens were back.

Maybe the ravens were back.

If the ravens were back then, then - he - then he couldn't even think about getting ahead. About getting a better job, about finally - then what the ravens said about life was true - 3 steps forward and 4 hops back.

He wondered what the deal was with the hellhound. He knew it wouldn't attack him, how he knew he was safe was perhaps a mystery but he knew. He also was pretty certain the hellhound was in cahoots with the ravens. Unfortunately, the ravens probably left the dog-thing here for the man. A gift! That made the man crack up and laugh out loud. A fucking present from the ravens. That's rich.

Baby, baby drove up in a Cadillac, I said Jesus Christ where did you get that Cadillac?

Outside the rain slammed against the studio windows driven by a howl and rode by a tiger and sung by an angel made of titanium and gossamer feathers all vaporous and sheer and diaphanous like a tornado.

Comments

[mik]

"Outside the rain slammed against the studio windows driven by a howl and rode by a tiger and sung by an angel made of titanium and gossamer feathers all vaporous and sheer and diaphanous like a tornado."

Wow! Great description. Sounds like the raven-gods awaken your gifts. Don't let them leave the tower.

Might be a good idea to take that red-eyed, drooling hellhound to the local pound though. Yuck.