Settled as a Weather Vane

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The crow on the edge of the high brick chimney looked studiously nonchalant as if any moment he would burst into a whistle. But the lorikeets in the nearby palm weren’t fooled. From time to time they would swoop, trying to dislodge him but he was settled as a weather vane. Then suddenly he struck, darting across to the palm tree towards the top where the lorikeets were and snatched something pink and wriggling. Everything changed. The lorikeets turning rabid charged after the crow shrieking maniacally as he flew over the highway disappearing with his booty.

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