He sat motionless on the balcony parapet, gazed through the dust covered windows and watched her while she was sitting on her large desk, writing, editing pictures, answering mails, dreaming, reading for hours. A pale beam of winter sunlight made her long and softly curled blonde hair shimmer. She put off the spectacles and rubbed her large sky blue eyes, and the melancholic expression in them cut deep into his heart.
He loved her so much, and he wished so deeply, that he would have treated her better before, when he has been alive as a human being. That he would have handled her with much more care and respect and understanding. He regretted so deeply that he never had enough courage to go in between and stop his wife when she slapped her, even punished her hard with the carpet beater, humbled her, lied to her, tried to smother her tiniest expression of self confidence, declared that she was insane and dumb and foolish. He wished he had recognized how talented she was, and intelligent, that he would have given her the support she had deserved, that he would have protected her, showed her much clearer he had loved her. Wouldn‘t have been this the prior duties of a father? He knew that she still had desperate periods of time in which she suffered brooding over her unhappy childhood days, and he heartfelt wanted to be able to help her, to put things right for her, to comfort her. But it was too late, too late…
An ice cold breeze rose and made him shiver. She stood up and went into the kitchen. It took a long time before she returned, and he waited patiently as he did so many times during the past years. She carried a big cup when she came back. While she was drinking delightfully she looked through the window and saw him. She hit the pane with her fist and shouted: „Oh, you again! You awkward, intrusive, goddamned creature! Get away!“
The big crow made a strange sound – like a deep sigh rising from a heavily mourning soul, shook its shiny black feathers and flew away…
I love crows and raven, because they are very intelligent. When I was a little girl, a raven came to us, sit down on the table and looked at me with his black eyes. He was such a nice-looking bird. And all the people in the Garden- Café gave him cookies and cake. He lived there many years. I never forgot him.
Excuse my bad english…. I hope, you understand my rubbish
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I love crows and ravens, too, dear Ingrid. When one of these big black birds is sitting near me in the morning while I’m waiting for the bus, I sometimes talk to it, and often have the impression, that it is able to understand me. 😉
Your English is excellent, dear Ingrid, and no rubbish! ❤
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Hat dies auf Die Erste Eslarner Zeitung – Aus und über Eslarn, sowie die bayerisch-tschechische Region! rebloggt.
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Danke schön! 🙂
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Der Dank gebührt Ihnen. Wunderbar zu lesen. LG
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Toll! Ich melde mich gleich mal für einen Kurs an. LG Michael
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Aber geh, Sie sprechen doch selbst ausgezeichnet Englisch. 😉
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LOL – Wünsche Ihnen ein ruhiges WE. LG Michael
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The sorrow of regret… such a painful and fruitless emotion.
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I think, to feel the pain of regret like the crow does, is real hell…
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I regret only the hurt I have caused to others. The rest are mistakes from which I hope I have or can learn.
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I feel the same, dear Sue.
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Oh My God, what a brilliant story. A father reborn as a crow, and his daughter hates the very sight of him of course. So powerful.
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I thank you so much for your kind words and the heartwarming compliment. ❤
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Excellent!
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Thank you, dear Sarah. 🙂
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Pingback: Photo prompt round up – Crow #writephoto | Sue Vincent's Daily Echo
Thank you, dear Sarah! 🙂
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Soul touching tale..
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Thank you.
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