I’ve started a series of micro-fiction stories, titled Urban Animals. Here is the first.
Each night over Vancouver the crows commute east. A long line of black wings, loosely grouped into a corvid highway. A nightly diaspora from the city to the suburbs. Where do they come to roost? I imagine, high on Burnaby Mountain, their homes are nestled in dark coniferous enclaves. After a long day in concrete and car exhaust, they breathe with relief the cooler mountain air, damp with wet pine and rich umami soil.