Creature-Crow

Enter Crow, who cannot be fully observed, only the brief, occasional fluttering of wings can be barely perceived in the gloom:

[As Crow speaks, her voice is harsh and grating, rasping and coughing, words catch in her throat and are sometimes incoherently repeated.]

 

“as you discover mine, you wish to speak of your own

Con – scious – ness.

I will tell you, what I have observed, you who I have observed,

(Caw – scious – ness)

for to watch is to be watched.

 

 

Your eyes stick to me, my tar-black-wings, and I brace. A jolt. A moment is all that is needed to dash upwards, ungrounded.

This is what you wish for - 

[A mass of feathers can be seen, low down and inching closer.]

I am selfish because humans perceive me so, I am a 

har - bin - ger

but to watch is to be watched, and human; I see you too. The light is reflected, shadow puppets are made in my shape – 

 

“And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon’s that is dreaming,

And the lamp-light o’er him streaming throws his shadow on the floor;

And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor

Shall be lifted—nevermore!”

 

The raven is a figment, such as I am a concept, cawncept. Within the shadow lies the soul, within my-self, you reside. Like the parasite. Plucking pests from my claws.

[She blinks. For a moment; white is glimpsed. Then black again.]

Cawtography. Map-making. How hu-man. Nevertheless

(Nevermore)

I wish to occupy this role. Cawtography exists within my

bird-brain

as the crow flies, or so the saying goes.

You wish for me to bridge this gap, as the crow flies betwixt this yawning chasm of your creation, as the crow flies the constant conscious craving to create and cawnstrue, as the crow flies, what will human do?

Carrion.

 

[Crow steps into the light.]

 

Carrion.

Carrion.

Carrion.

 

Like you’ve always done.