Caw, caw.
I got out and put a rose apple on the table. As I was about to drop my body in the lounge, the crow bit the fruit in her beak and flew.
“Hey, where are you going?” I yelled.
The crow paused her wings on a branch of the tree in front of my house. “I’m going to eat it in the forest,” she told.
“Why don’t you eat it here?”
“I don’t want the noise to bother my meal.”
Hearing it, I understood what she meant.
“They don’t argue everyday,” I said.
“I don’t believe in humans. Their minds are not stable and their feelings are always up and down.”
After saying it, she put the fruit between her beak and flew towards the wood.
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