"A little way ahead of us a raven stands in the road. We are driving and it is still night but almost early morning. They lost my bag in Moscow. The raven flies. His feathers are iridescent under the street lamps and my driver does not slow. By my passenger window the raven comes with his wings striking the night. There is a piece of the moon in the sky and no one is on the road—we are in South Delhi and everything seems to be a reflection in the water. Or the sky is a reflection of the Earth and the raven is the moon and my driver is the sky (I don’t know why) and my body is the space between them."
- p.g.

via maythroughoctoberandon