The squirrel was standing at the pavement, gazing at her love across the street, a bird that was full of pride, a jet black crow, a charming mystery she met the day before. Shiny dark eyes, feathers like a starry night, a delicate beak, everything she could ask for.
Bags all set, the squirrel was ready to spend the rest of her life with her lovely crow. Taking a deep breath, she dashed straight into the street, her pupils dilated in high anticipation, adrenaline rushed in her veins, heart beat fast. Suddenly, it was dark, a heavy gust of wind swept through her fur. On the lamppost, the crow uttered a continuous flow of caws as another car speeding towards the poor squirrel paralyzed in red.
That afternoon, in the midst of the street, a flock of crows were fighting among each other for a fresh meal.