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Squawk!

I was digging through my old high school papers, and I found this old story I wrote back in 10th grade for my "Ethnic Exp. Lit. 2" class in March of 1994. We were doing a section on superstitions.

* * *

"Squawk!"

It was a bright and sunny day in the city, and Bob was very cheerful. After three years, he had finally saved enough money to buy a brand new Lexus. Bob drove it home and had just finished washing it for the third time in the same day when he heard a crow squawk. 'Oh no!' he thought. 'It's bad luck to hear a crow squawk!' He immediately decided to get rid of this ill omen.

"Shut up and go away! You heard me! Get out of here!" Bob shouted.

"Squawk!" the crow replied.

"Stop that squawking!" Bob screamed.

"Squawk! Squawk! Squawk!" the crow answered.

"Ahh!" Bob yelled. "I'll get rid of you if it's the last thing I'll do!"

The crow promptly deposited a drop of feces on the hood of Bob's Lexus. Bob became utterly speechless. He grabbed a couple of pebbles from the sidewalk and started to hurl them at the crow. The crow flew off the power cable it was resting on and began to successfully dodge the stones. It hovered back and forth skillfully until a loose brick got in its way. The crow, surprised by this unexpected development, squawked again. The brick did not squawk, but, instead, it fell directly onto the windshield of Bob's car, cracking it, then knocked off the hood ornament, and finally dropped into a huge puddle made by Bob's car washing and splashed an enormous amount of water onto Bob's face. This did not make Bob any happier.

Bob returned to his room and got his rifle. When he went back outside, the crow was standing on the hood of his car. He aimed carefully, pulled the trigger, missed the crow, and completely shattered his windshield. "Oh no! The bad luck has already started!" Bob exclaimed. The crow was startled by the gunshot, squawked again, and flew to the other side of the street. Bob followed it. He stopped in the middle of the street and was about to pull the trigger again when a truck, unable to stop in time, barely missed hitting Bob, but it knocked the rifle out of his hands. "I hate this bad luck!" Bob cried. The crow squawked again and flew away. "Don't you dare fly away now after you've caused all this damage, you crow!" said Bob. He retrieved his rifle, got into his car, cleared away what was left of his windshield so he could see, and drove after the crow.

After flying several blocks, the crow stopped to rest on a lamppost. "Squawk!" it crowed. Bob shot his rifle at it and missed again. The crow continued flying. Every time the crow stopped, Bob shot at it, and the crow took off again. This persisted until the crow flew off a cliff. Bob was fully concentrated on the location of the crow and did not see the cliff he was approaching. In fact, he didn't notice the cliff until he suddenly lost control of his car, which fell head first off the cliff. "Stupid bad luck crow!" Bob screamed as he frantically stepped on the brake to no avail. Shortly afterward, his car landed on the road below and exploded instantly. A fiery fragment of the Lexus that was tossed up by the explosion hit and killed the crow just after it shrieked one final "Squawk!"

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LEAVE THIS FIELD BLANK. IT IS HERE TO TRAP ROBOTS.

LEAVE THIS FIELD BLANK. IT IS HERE TO TRAP ROBOTS.

LEAVE THIS FIELD BLANK. IT IS HERE TO TRAP ROBOTS.

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