Haven't finished any books recently to review, so I'm putting little intros to other fiction in here. This is the first page from my first novel, The Year of the Crow.
2030 Green Bay, WI
The crows were flying low over the rooftops, perching on the eaves and taking off again to circle over the city, flying down streets and alleyways in anticipation of carrion to come. The country lay in darkness. Even in the light of day, the darkness came down and settled in the eyes of the people and under brilliant sunshine people would say, "A little cloudy, don't you think?" The light had gone. No one knew where. Few seemed to miss it
Yet the skies were bright and clear, as they had not always been not so long ago. It was the answering light that was missing, the light from eyes that smiled back upon the world, eyes that laughed with delight at a glimpse of sun on water as at some delicious secret. In fact people who still emitted light, those who still saw wonder and hope and excitement in the tag ends of civilization, were considered suspect and some were locked up as mad.
There was at least one mad woman still at large on this dark sunny day.
A crow circled high above an ancient two-story building and landed on a crumbling cornice. An old woman stood outside a window that gave out onto the black tarpapered roof. She was dressed all in black and, as the crow landed, she knelt on the roof and set a bowl down carefully in front of her, as an offering.
"Hello, crow," she said, her voice barely more than a whisper. The crow cocked its head and drifted down to the roof with a slight lift of its wings. "And how is the wide world today?"