Original writing prompt:

[WP] you've always fed the crows on your property leftovers of dinner, but they have never come up to you closely. One day, an intruder breaks into your house, and the crows hear your screams for help and decide to intervene.

I stared at the amount of leftovers on the table. It's hard cooking only for yourself, especially when you are so used to live with another being that consumed dinner with you. The one time I miss my brother, when he savaged the table like a garbage truck, and sometimes finish the cleaning for me.

Well, I'll leave them on the driveway to feed whatever being that would be glad to take his place.

I shoved the chicken breast and fries into a plastic container, and wished that I won't be seeing ants making themselves at home right in front of my home. Or they'd at least help with the bills if they do. But mostly the former, 'cause it would be a nightmare trying to avoid squashing them when I leave the place for work every morning.

The next day, I was greeted with a single black feather in the mostly clean, only greasy lunchbox.

It was a pleasant surprise. I never knew we had crows in the neighbourhood, but apparently, we do. And I also learnt that they eat KFC too.

This gesture repeated for an extended period of time, especially when brother comes in and out of the country at random period of time and it's excruciatingly hard to keep track with the food consumption of the household, I left whatever we had in the fridge to the nice flying neighbours that never graced me with their existence. Sometimes it's actually dinner, sometimes it's just snacks, or those prawn crackers from the Chinese down the road.

But I guess they're not picky, seeing that the box often came back without a hint of food, except for the grease.

It might be due to their lack an actual tongue to lick the box clean.

I kept the box on the higher shelf in the kitchen, in case the brother decided to use it to pack his breakfast/lunch/dinner to eat on his journey, it is just plain rude to offer food to someone else in an old lunchbox.

He reckoned that's true too, so I kept the box in a designated area, packed him the dinner he wanted, and sent him off the the airport. He waved back from the cab.

It wasn't that mind-boggling to be in the house alone, but I would admit feeling strange to be watching Fresh off the Boat myself, while being only able to live text the deep cultural connection I felt to the brother. He must be crossing the Atlantic by now, hence the lack of reply. I decided to send more just to annoy him when he touched down.

At approximately five to midnight, I decided to go to bed, seeing that the brother is still as communicative as he was two hours ago. Which is not very communicative.

Maybe I'll sleep now and wake up early to continue my text vomit. This is a great idea. My phone is going dead anyway.

I'm feeling like a genius already.

As the lights clicked off, I left the lamp next to my door open, due to my extreme clumsiness and self-diagnosed night blindness. I had a feeling the trip to the toilet may be a thing later tonight, seeing that I had the entire litre of Fanta to myself this evening.

This proven to be true. I was woken up by my primitive urge to release the extra fluid from my body, I tossed and turned for a bit, only to realise I really need to get up and get it done.

When I opened the door, I realised something unusual about the house. There was another person in it. I counted the population that should be in the house, and it should just be a grand total of myself.

I heard noises downstairs, confused, I decided to break out my not-secret talent. I picked up a few small items, tiptoed, in silent.

Whoever thinks it's a good idea to break into this house had no idea whom they're dealing with.

A professional ballet dancer with an excellent shot in darts.

I hope I don't kill with my skills. I do pity the intruder now.

To be honest, I had no idea why the person remained downstairs, it's not like we have an overly interesting living room, and we certainly did not own any silverware in the kitchen. What could he or she possibly wanted, an out of stock IKEA furniture?

I checked the coast was clear, and veered into the hallway, I'm pretty sure the intruder is now in the kitchen.

Well now that's just too easy for anyone to finish the job, really. I flung open the kitchen door, ready to attack.

"Gah!!"

"Gah!!!"

Both me and the intruder let out an alarmingly loud scream, that probably broke all the rules of noise pollution, running the risk of complaints by neighbours and a fine from the police.

Before I generated a response, after sparing myself and the intruder a minute to digest the shocking news, flocks of unidentified flying objects came bashing through our windows.

It's the crows.

They came in like a jet, cruising the cheap IKEA lamp hanging from the ceiling.

Oh my word, I better explain this before they poke his eyes out like taking sapphires from a statute.

But they seem to be confused, wondering which of us they should be directing their offensive on, and I cannot blame them, for I sometimes too, find myself confused when I look into the mirror with him standing behind me.

"Hello, pleasure to finally meet you all." I threw in some Japanese imported cornflakes into their usual feeding bowl, and placed them on the table, "Sorry for the false alarm at this late hour of the night, I never imagined you all to be listening."

"Please, accept this as my apology. I had no idea why he'd be back here, too." Seeing the crows seem to have comprehended the situation as a not-hostile one, they ascended elegantly, and surrounded the small tub of food. I made sure there would be enough for all of them by refilling a bit.

"Speaking of which, why are you here? I thought you'd be off to our ex-colony by now."

"Please don't say that, it's a touchy subject for some readers." The brother gave me a frown, but continued explained himself , "Some mechanical failure, no replacement plane available, the flight is called off, passengers and crew got sent back. I didn't want to wake you so I was trying to camp out in the living room but I got hungry."

"Americans! Americans! They used to be British!"* I chanted as he pushed me out of the kitchen, leaving the lights dimmed, the crows looked like a misunderstood symbol under this effect.

"That's it. You need to lay off the TV for a while."

"Whatever you say, Rick, whatever you say."

"Stop it, and go to bed."

I looked at the face that is strikingly identical to mine except for the exhaustion apparent on his features, I smiled and went back to bed, wishing that I could feed the crows indoors from now on, to avoid the risk of attracting unwanted guests into the household.

(END)

*Original chant from Fresh off the Boat: Raisins! Raisin! They used to be grapes!

Sorry if it's offensive, but that was the only thing on my mind when I heard the chant, similar application can be:Japanese! Japanese! They used to be Chinese! (equally offensive, sorry.)(I must have offended the entire reddit and will definitely get a gazillion downvotes, I do profusely apologise for being so politically incorrect.)