A Fistful of Dust

A magical tale of the Sundarbans, as told by Angela

The city was bathed in the golden light that lays nor’westers to rest. A bedraggled crow sat upon a window ledge. Battered by the recent storm, he had lost his confident, raffish air and his feathers stuck out untidily in all directions. A gang of street sparrows were observing him warily from another window ledge. 

“Look at him, lost all his swagger, ha…