Crow on a Rock

"I'm lonely," said Betty.
She and Noah were watching a crow on a rock. The crow was smashing a crab on the rock.
"That's so weird," Noah said
"What, that I'm lonely?" said Betty.
"No," replied Noah,"that a crow should be smashing a crab on a rock."
They were in Noah's dory. The dory was drifting. Now and again Noah would take up the oars and row them closer to the crow again. It was cold and that was evident with Betty. She was bundled up from head to toe. Only her eyes could be seen. Her wool hat was pulled down to her eyebrows, her high knitted collar pulled over her nose. There were tears in her eyes. Noah didn't notice.
"What's so weird about that?" Betty said, sniffling.
"I've never seen a crow do that," Noah said. "Only seagulls."
"What's weird is how you never talk to me. Not anymore. You used to talk to me. You used to talk to me a lot."
"I'm talking to you now."
"No, you're just talking. If you listened to me, then you'd be talking TO me."
"I think the difference is the seagulls do it from a height. They don't hold it in their beaks and smash it. That's even weirder. Because crows by and large are much smarter than gulls."
"I feel like a crow on a rock," Betty said.
"You...what? Don't be silly," said Noah.
She tried not to be. It was pretty easy, really. Her boyfriend was a stranger. Had become a stranger. And she didn't know why. And he wouldn't tell her. Wouldn't even act like it was true.
The crow turned its head side to side, as if looking for cracks in the shell of the tiny crustacean, then went back to dashing it against the rock.
The sound of the surf not far off and the sound of her heart so close in became deafening.
She would hear it in her dreams. The twin sounds. And the boat would have only her in it. And there would be no land in sight.

13 November 2025
Texas Jim
Prospect, Nova Scotia