Giving the eye

I dug a hole. I got in and sat down. I liked the coolness of the earth. The silence was profound.

A crow landed on the edge of the hole. The crow said, “What are you doing?” I said I was taking it easy. The crow said, “Are you tired?” I said I wasn’t.

The crow said, “Do you see any worms?” I said I didn’t. I did see some worms. Three actually. But I didn’t want harm to come to them.

The crow said, “Are you sure?”

I said I was.

The crow gave me the eye. That’s their specialty. Plenty folk fold in on themselves and do a crow’s bidding when they get the eye.

I looked at the space between the crow’s eyes. It’s something my dad taught me. He said it’s a way to meet someone’s gaze when you think it might be too much. It keeps you from looking away.

The crow was overcome by my stare. It looked away and flew off.

One of the worms said, “Thanks, that was very kind of you.”

I said, “No one wants to be anyone’s lunch.”