The cawing of the crow brought him back from the dead.

Her eyes were made of stone, and unlike any being her skin

was soft and cold.

“She’s alive,” said the crow as he titled his head.

Bold and wise, the crow stood still; all alone.

He shrieked and smiled and waved goodbye.

“What a strange creature,” She said.

“Is it true?” He said.

“That we’re both dead?”