Forsaken

It is a warm winter day, warm in a way that makes you suspicious because winter is supposed to be cold. Odin goes to the pharmacy to pick something up, also his wife wants something that they don’t have but at least they have what he ordered. No crows see him on the way there,  unmolested by corvids he walks on damp sidewalks dirty with gravel and salt spread during the freezing rain a couple days earlier.

Odin walks around for a while. He calls his wife and says, hi. He sends someone a text message. He walks past the store but doesn’t go inside because he isn’t really hungry. It is lunch time but Odin isn’t hungry.

He stands on the corner for a while but Huginn and Muninn have forsaken him.

It is a suspiciously warm winter day and the crows have forsaken Odin.

He decides to go back to the office and goof around. He is almost back to the office when the crows show up. The two grey ones, then the black one too. The duck-sized grey one hops from car to car, following Odin. The black one sticks to the trees, the low branches. The smaller grey one likes the telephone lines.

Ok, Odin says. I’ll go get you something.

He walks back to the store. He buys a sandwich and a nut/berry mix.

The crows follow him up the street. He gives them a few nuts, then walks over to the bench and sits down.

At first he fears the crows thought all he was going to give them were a couple almonds, and gave up on him.

Odin couldn’t tell you where this abandonment anxiety comes from.

Then Muninn shows up (the black one) and Odin peels the lid from the plastic container containing the chicken sandwich and removes half, which he tears in half again. He tosses a piece to Muninn.

Muninn discards the cucumber slices, eats a little bread, then flies off with a beak full of chicken.

Then Huginn arrives and gets the other piece.

Odin is left with the remaining half of a chicken sandwich he doesn’t want. Garbagemen walk down the street and putter around in the nearby intersection. Odin wonders what their policy is on whatever it is one would call what he is doing. Feeding crows. Throwing your sandwich on the ground. Sitting on a bench and staring into space.

When the garbagemen turn their backs, Odin breaks the remaining sandwich into pieces and leaves it on the ground for the crows, in case they should return.

What say the hanged?

Today is made out of yesterday, and tomorrow out of today. So if you want tomorrow to be different, you have to do something different today.

It doesn’t have to be a huge change.

Small differences are okay too. You never know.

Whatever.

It’s like when you’re out in the woods building a fort. A fort doesn’t just build itself.

Or a treehouse.

You need the right things. A shovel, or wood and nails, a hammer, a saw. If you want a fort tomorrow, you need these things today.

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