Nimbus's Skyward Gaze

Nimbus fell from the sky, a fledgling crow with a wing that would never heal properly. We built him a large outdoor aviary, but he preferred the freedom of our porch, returning each night to his safe perch. He learned to mimic our laughter, the dog's bark, and even the microwave beep. He'd steal shiny objects—forks, keys, jewelry—and hide them in his secret stash. The backyard is too quiet now, missing his raucous caws at sunrise, the flash of his black feathers as he hopped along the fence, and the clever glint in his dark eyes as he plotted his next theft.