A Bird Named Friday

Was biking to work and stopped at a red when a crow landed on top of the stop light. Tried to grab my phone to take a picture of the pitch black bird spitting down on the world against a gray cloud canvas. But bike traffic is fierce here and as I shuffled out of the way, the bird felt me move close and flapped away. Like most evil things, posing for pictures aren't a part of their operation.

I turned my rusty two wheeler to the lakeside path and took in the scenery, moving a little slower than usual. A young girl walked arm in arm with her grandfather and stopped so he could say something significant. A string of children holding hands marched. A swan shook the water from its feathers, then it started to rain. I looked up to the sky and there, hovering a safe distance overhead, was the crow. "Hello Friday", I said and took a sharp left off the path and into the city maze.