Yes, I Talk to Crows. No, I’m Not Summoning the Apocalypse (Yet).

Every morning, I take the same route to work.
Every morning, I pass the same handful of crows.
And every morning, without fail, I greet them.

Sometimes it’s a nod, or a click of my tongue.
Sometimes it’s, “Morning, lads.”
Once, it was “You look majestic today, Reginald.”
(He did.)

Now, people have started to notice.

“Are you… talking to birds?”

Yes. Yes, I am.

Apparently, this is weird behavior.
Apparently, “normal” people don’t hold casual conversations with birds like they’re running for mayor of the local murder.

To which I say:
If Snow White can do it, so can I.

Let’s Be Real

I could be scrolling TikTok.
I could be arguing with strangers.
Instead? I’m bonding with the feathered citizens of this fine city.

Call it weird. I call it character research.
What if the crow is actually a cursed prince?
What if he’s the love interest in Book 9 of The Phoenix Rising Chronicles: Avian Edition?

Anything is possible when you’re mildly delusional and extremely charming.

The Crows Get Me

They don’t judge.
They don’t ask why I wear pink lace one day and a leather jacket the next.
They simply vibe.

Also, I think one of them has started following me.

(Emotionally or physically? Unclear.)

The Day I Snapped

Coworker: “Why are you always talking to crows?”
Me: “Because they’re the only ones who haven’t asked me to smile before 9am.”

Reginald respects boundaries. Be more like Reginald.

In Conclusion:

I talk to crows.
I wear too much eyeliner for 7:30 a.m.
I write novels about emotionally damaged pop stars and shadow-wielding women with trust issues.

You expected normal?

With love, feathers, and absolutely no regrets,
Eleanor