The Feast

Three crows sat in the middle of Lennard Road, right on the yellow line, just after sunrise. This was not so much dangerous as inconvenient, but that's where the opossum (yesterday they had known him as “Jim”; today he was merely “lunch”) had fallen, so that's where the crows sat.   “Tasty bits, tasty bits, down in here beneath the bugs...” the Crow called Maurice sang and muttered to himself.   “CAR! CAR! CAR!” yelled Beatrice, and they all flew into the trees and scowled at the blue hatchback as it sped by. Moments after its passing, they were back on the asphalt, but now Stinky John was eating the tasty bits beneath the bugs and Maurice was quite rightly incensed.   A brief squabble, some insults bandied back and forth regarding each other's parentage, a few barbs about substandard wingspans. During the scuffle, Beatrice ate the tasty bits.   “Poor old Jim, he never did get the hang of roads and crossings,” said Maurice, munching a bug.   “An idiot. He's in a better place now,” said Beatrice.   “What's that mean?” asked Stinky John. (He asked that a lot.)   “Not sure,” she mused. “Just something I heard a human say once when they were putting one of their own in the ground.”   “Why do they put them in the ground, anyway? They're missing the best parts.”   “Who knows why humans do anything?”   “I know a man who throws peanuts on the ground, right in front of me, every afternoon. Why do you suppose he does that?”   “Perhaps he needs help pecking through the shells?”   “Well, I don't give the nuts back, if that's what he's hoping. Doesn't seem to bother him, though. He just grins and throws more down.”   “Every afternoon, you say? I'm coming with you next time.”   “CAR! CAR! CAR!”   And off they flew again as a silver minivan came tearing down the road, at a clip considerably faster than they expected.   Maurice was so intent on nabbing at least one more of the tasty bits while Stinky John was away that he didn't take off quite as fast as the other two. There was a WHUMP and a puff of feathers. Then he was lying next to Jim on the road, quite still. As the minivan roared over the hill toward town, the bugs began making their leggy way over to see if Maurice had any tasty bits of his own.