I've been thinking about a few days ago. It isn't yesterday anymore, but it still feels like it. Why do these things bother me?

I've never disobeyed the Crow before. I've lied to her plenty, and gotten away with it most of the time without getting caught, but I've never lied about disobeying. I've been able to be and have had to be many things before in order to survive, but what am I, now?

My Spanish has improved. It's ironic that such an abrupt act of... whatever that was, should have a positive effect on me. I can speak in past, present and future. Yo odio cuervos. Yo odié cuervos. Yo odiaré cuervos. Yo odio cuervos.

Today I am walking. Thought I would go to the library, but I decided not to really go anywhere. Today I don't want to read. Today I want to think, and to see.

Pensar y mirar.
Two verbs I have thought about a lot lately.

The thing about these parts is it's all flat. I can see dry ground for miles in this directions, miles of blond wheat in this direction, and this way I can see the town. The walk is long.

I look up for no particular reason. Blue and cloudless as always. One of those metal bird things flies by silently. They call them air-o-planes. Looks like an ant.

I look back down. My feet are tired from walking. I think of stopping, sitting down on the hard, cracked ground. Soon a dot comes up from over yonder. I wonder why. I decide to wait and see who it is.

A man with an empty wagon and a horse. Looks mighty riled. He stops. He is an order.

"Get in the wagon."

I am nothing.

He takes me. I do not understand.