Jane glanced out her windshield. The day was calm, even at forty-five hundred feet. Her plane speared through the air, leaving no feeling of its passing. The view ahead was clear. She was low enough to observe landmarks. She had planned a straightforward flight.
A moving, dark spot caught her left eye. She looked that way, her adrenaline surging. She gripped the yoke tighter but saw nothing. It could be anywhere in the immense sky, or nowhere. She grabbed her mic to call the tower. Before she pressed the button, Jane saw a stable shape outside her right window.
A crow was flying in formation with her off her right wing. It kept an easy pace with her.
Jane knew she was too high – she knew she was going too fast. Yet, here was a crow — hanging out by her wingtip. She checked a screen — about a hundred miles from the airport. She smiled. She looked over at the crow again — it tilted its wing towards her. Not knowing what else to do, she banked slightly towards it. The crow slowed and descended. Amazed, Jane watched it until it disappeared.
On the ground, Jane unloaded her equipment onto a luggage cart. She was excited to talk to her family. She pulled the equipment-laden cart to the private reception area. She could see her sister and mother through the windows. She passed through the automatic door. The chaos smacked her senses.
Everyone was shouting; the overhead speaker spewed a constant, tinny voice. Her family members were on their phones, and their faces were pale. They had not noticed Jane. She walked up to them and stopped when she realized her sister was crying. Her mother looked up, panicked.
“What happened?” asked Jane, fearing the answer.
“The parking garage just collapsed, Dad was parking the car,” wailed her sister.
Jane set the crow story aside and went to her mother.
