The crow shook himself and ruffled his
black feathers. He felt utterly humiliated.
He had quite forgotten his dream.
He arranged his feathers and flexed his wings.
It was late in the morning. He was beginning to
feel quite peckish.
As he opened his wings he notice a little vole
just beneath him, searching about in
the short grass between the big, grey stones.
Very gently the crow then closed his wings,
and without moving or making the slightest sound,
he allowed the little animal to continue its quest in peace.
Art and Story by Mirino
Click Here to read the whole story~
25 augustus 2010