Stewart loved his life. He relished every moment of it. Yet, he knew he would regret some decisions and choices that he had made, later as he lays in his deathbed. He would later regret not getting a college degree, not fulfilling his dream of traveling the world, and not saying goodbye to his mother as she drove off into the distant fog, never to be seen or heard from again. Stewart knew all these things, he would regret as he grew old and grey. But, as he sat here, in his favorite chair, looking out his window into the same grey garden he had always kept nice and beautiful, he soon forgot where his mind has been for the past minute or so. Instead of thinking of the future, his mind shifts to the thoughts of going to work. He releases his strangely intense grip on his chair arms and puts on his work uniform.

Stewart always has the same breakfast each morning. Two English muffins and a single cup of tea. He ate his breakfast and checked the newspaper. He finished his reading, and proceeded to head off to work. Each day, he would take the same route. He would exit his house, stop to look at his garden, then go across the street to the park. He would go through the heavily forested area of the park, and enjoy the low-hanging branches of the cherry trees. He would then exit the park, and walk the rest of the way on the sidewalk.

Every day he would go into work and immediately check on the shelves to see if anything was stolen or misplaced. Nothing was usually missing, but he checked just to make sure. Stewart would then go behind the counter, and start his day-long shift. No one came into the store, but he was always waiting to greet a customer with a happy smile.

Once he was done with his work, he would walk home, then start his evening routine. He walked in the door, and slipped off his shoes and uniform. He would then put on a can of beans for dinner, and then make some toast. After he finished his supper, he would then return to the room with his favorite chair, and pick a book from his shelf to read. This was Stewart's favorite part of the day. He loved reading. He loved reading with a passion. Tonight, he decided to read Edgar Allen Poe: "The Raven". This was Stewart's favorite author. He always had a sense of mystery and macabre hidden somewhere inside him. He would then go upstairs to his bathroom, and brush his teeth. After, he would slip on his sleeping gown and head into bed.

This was Stewart's life. Every day, he would repeat this same routine. Every day, he would continue to go around the constantly foggy suburban neighborhood and live in his specific way of life. Most would consider this insanely boring, and most would be right. But remember again, you're not Stewart.

The next day, Stewart heard something rapping softly on his window. He was surprised by this, as he never usually heard any sound at the dawn of day. Stewart quickly got on his slippers and investigated the noise. The rapping continued, until Stewart quickly came to the conclusion that it was coming from his bedroom window. He looked over to his window to see a small bird, pecking his windowsill. This was curiously odd, as there were never any animals around that Stewart could see. He decided to let the bird in his home. Stewart pointed his finger outward, and surprisingly enough, the bird jumped onto it. He set the bird down on his bed, and he went on to do his morning routine. He went downstairs to sit in his chair. He looked out the window, as he sat down, and saw some other birds perched atop of trees and power lines. This was odd, indeed. Stewart thought nothing of it, and continued on with his day.

He left his house, and went into the park. As he looked up at the low-hanging branches, he saw even more birds. What was strange about them, is that they had beady eyes, that looked as if they were all pointed at him. They made no chirps either, which was extremely unsettling.

He got to his work, and noticed that there were a few things missing. He checked the shelves, to notice a few packages of bread gone. He saw a trail of crumbs, leading to the washroom door. He decided to open the door, to see what was inside. What he saw, made him run right outside of the store. Birds everywhere. Not just sitting on plain surfaces, but the walls and floor were birds. Just birds with beady eyes, pointed right at him.

Stewart didn't even wait to run home. But, as he ran home, he noticed the fog was darker and more dense. He felt like there were eyes, staring intently at him the entire time he ran home.

As soon as he opened the door, there was even more horror waiting for him. He opened the door and saw a massive raven, which took up the space of the entire foyer. The raven had small, and shiny eyes, that had a tint of a dark red. The bird opened its beak. It said the most horrifyingly vague thing Stewart had ever heard. It had a low, and growling voice. It was as if, it was coming from the devil himself. The bird said,

"Wake up, Stewart."

Just as the Raven said this, the floor beneath Stewart dissipated and transformed into tens of thousands of ravens, as did the walls and ceiling. Stewart fell, deeper and deeper into whatever hole he was falling into.

Stewart awoke on the cold sand. He was crying, and felt as if he was naked. Stewart opened his eyes, and saw that he was in a desert. He stood up, and looked to see if there was anyone around to help him. There was no one.

Stewart walked the rest of his years, aimlessly in the desert. He died later on. The last thing he saw was the giant raven that trapped him there.