Finnian Burnett

Ravens Don’t Have High Blood Pressure

The ravens in the gas station parking lot are bigger than my cat, bigger than our neighbour’s Jack Russell Terrier. Ravens are extremely smart, my wife says, they use tools and can imitate human speech.

I stare at the one closest to our car. It struts with purpose like a fat man in a suit, walking with his hands in his pockets. My wife tells me ravens are adaptable to all kinds of different environments which makes them far more likely to survive changing weather patterns than we are.

Another raven lands on a gas pump with a French fry in its beak. Last week, my doctor told me to give up fried foods and spend more time on the treadmill because of my high blood pressure.

Ravens play, my wife says. They even make toys to play in groups.

I obsess about my unusual heart rhythms and watch the ravens as they play with each other and eat French fries and survive.