6. Wayne

The crows were gone, all of them.

My apartment was empty.

I searched everywhere, under the table and desk, behind the chair.

They were gone.

Was that it? Were they done with me? Was I free? What about the prototypes and the other jobs? It didn't matter.

They were gone.

I closed the window and locked it.

I got a roll of duct tape and taped over the lock and around the frame, securing it into place.

I added more tape.

I closed the blinds and the curtains.

I would never let them in again.

Never.

I slept well that night, undisturbed by crow sounds.

I dreamed about a lush green city, a solar utopia with hanging gardens and concrete columns.

I was riding through it on an e-bike, following some figure ahead of me on another bike.

I couldn't see her face, but I knew who it was.