"It's just a story? Right! That you'll die within twenty-four hours of a Raven feather falling on you!"

Emma Reed sat shaking, nursing in both hands a cup of sweet tea that her friend Julie Hamilton had just made. Emma tried to sip her drink, but her shaking was creating a mini tsunami within the cup, its mini waves lapping up its sides.

Julie, placed her hand on her friends arm and gently took the cup away from her. "I'll make you a fresh one later." Walking back to the kitchen.

"It's just a story? Right!" shouted Emma to Julie. "About the black feather landing on you!"

Julie stared out of her kitchen window. What was she to say? "Of course, it's just a story." She shouted back. "There must be hundreds of people who've had black feathers fall on them and there're still here."

"Really? Who Julie who. Name one!" Emma was desperate to know.

Julie just bit her lip. "I'll make us a fresh cup of tea." Trying to avoid the question.

An hour earlier, Emma had been out doing her Saturday morning grocery shopping when as she pushed her cart towards the car, out of the corner of her eye she saw a black feather land on her shoulder. Screaming, she jumped away from the cart, frantically brushing the feather off. Then she ran her hands over her face, down her arms, body and legs. The same type of hysterical response one does when walking into a spider web.

But this was no outburst of someone with an arachnid phobia, as far as Emma was concerned the feather had just given her a twenty-four-hour notice period to put her affairs in order before being visiting by the Morticians Raven, an avian Grim Reaper. Then taken off to who knows where.

She tried to carry on as normal for the rest of the day, but the incident with the feather was too much for her to bear. She needed to hear from someone that the story was just that, a story. And that a giant big black bird wasn't going to come and whisk her away to wherever. She abandoned what she was doing then fumbled for her cell phone.

Julie was having a duvet Saturday, when she answered the phone to an hysterical Emma. Julie thought at first that her friend had been mugged. When she finally got out of her that a black feather had just landed on her shoulder, there was nothing she could do but reluctantly ask her friend over.

Julie sat in her armchair wearing her favourite 'Duvet Day' Winnie the Pooh pyjamas. "Why don't you just chill out here with me today? I can order in pizza, chocolate chip ice cream and diet coke for later. What do you say?"

Emma thought in front of Julie, the story sounded ridiculous. Emma was a thirty-three-year-old who still believed in stories that adults told kids at Halloween. She finished her tea and then nodded.

"Good!" said Julie jumping off the chair. "Now, which set of PJ's would you like. 'Frozen' or 'Finding Nemo'?"

Julie handed over the 'Finding Nemo' pyjamas and suggested that Emma took a long hot bath. Then they would sit snuggled up on the sofa watching 'Netflix' movies.

Emma stood in front of the bathroom mirror watching her reflection mist up from the running hot water. It was good to be with Julie, but Emma was of the opinion that her friend was not being truthful with her about something. Then, shrugging off all nonsensical thoughts about feathers, began to undress. Emma took off her t-shirt and immediately froze when she saw the black mark on her shoulder!

The screams brought Julie running to the bathroom, "What's happened? Are you alright?"

Emma was back to being hysterical again, "LOOK!" she cried out turning her back towards Julie. She could see Emma had a black sooty mark, the pattern of a feather on her shoulder. Julie looked at the black feather shape and touched it with her finger. She smudged the black feather shape and held up a sooty index finger. 

"Look Em, It's just a dirty mark. See it comes off!"

"But...but how did it get there? And why does it look like a feather. I tell you I'm cursed!" Emma fell onto Julie's shoulder and wept. 

"Ssshhh! It's OK. Look you're tired why don't you lie down in the spare bedroom, have a couple of hours sleep." While she talked, Julie proceeded to wipe the black mark away from Emma's shoulder with a towel.

Emma gave up on her bath and changed into her cheerful pyjamas, although it was going to take more than an animated clown fish to bring her out of her depression. She opened the bathroom door and Julie watched as her friend went into the spare bedroom. It was when the the door closed, that Julie thought she heard Emma cough except it sounded more like a 'Craw!'

Three hours had passed, when Julie felt a cold breeze around her bare legs. She got up to see if there were any windows open. She checked around the apartment, but all the windows were shut. Then feeling the breeze again, she placed her hand at the bottom of Emma's bedroom door. The source of the draft.

Julie knocked. "Hi, you OK in there?"

There was no answer and  the breeze was starting to chill her feet. "Em, can I come in to close the window. My tootsies are getting cold." Still no answer. Julie gently turned the handle.

She stood in the doorway of the spare bedroom aghast. The sash window was wide open and the curtains were being whipped around by the wind coming into the room. Sitting on the window sill, sat a large black raven.  Upon seeing Julie, it took off, flying out of the open window.

Emma Reed was nowhere to be seen. Just a scattering of black feathers in the bed she previously occupied. Julie Hamilton sighed, she liked Emma but knew the same fate beheld her like it did for her own husband. Mike too was touched by a black feather some years ago, while they were both walking in the park. She knew her friend didn't have long, no-one ever does, who has been touched by the feather from the Mortician Raven.

Minding not to tread on any of the black feathers, Julie shut the window then went to fetch her vacuum cleaner. After the last feather had been safely sucked away, she returned to the window. 

The Mortician's Raven sat on a roof across from her apartment. The Raven was now accompanied by another black bird. Julie watched as the Mortician Raven shook itself and a single black feather from its wing drifted down to the crowd below. She followed its course, then heard a scream as the recipient of the feather could be heard saying:

"It's just a story? Right!"

© Alice White