This morning, my alarm clock is not what woke me. It was the cawing of a murder of crows in the trees outside my window. I expected to wake up in my own bed at home, where crows like to perch in the oak tree that shades the entirety of our front lawn.
A line from Lady Macbeth popped into my head as I sat up:
"The raven himself is hoarse
That croaks the fatal entrance of Duncan
Under my battlements."
Macbeth, Act One, Scene Five
I sure hope the king of Scotland keeps his distance from Harlan.
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