The Milkweed Triptych 01 - Bitter Seeds
“Amidst sand and iron, surf and steel, ravens gorged on the dead. The first few hours were best, before sunlight and seawater fouled the meat. But soon the carrion reek attracted more than birds. New men arrived to clear the beaches. The ravens, scavengers themselves, watched while these new men picked what they could from the dead. Derelict armaments. Cigarettes. Pocket watches.
And when the dead turned noisome with rot, the men used their clattering machines to excavate trenches and pile the bodies. The fires burned for a day, a night, and a day.
More men arrived, with still more machines. They amassed at the shore, facing west, while a fleet of boats and barges assembled in estuaries up and down the coast. Like some great predator poised to lunge upon its prey, this assembly fixated on the island across the Channel.
Large predators, the ravens knew, brought down large prey. Large prey meant a bounty of carrion.
And so the ravens stayed, and watched.
New shapes darkened the sky that summer.
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