The owl

When I was a little girl we lived in a small village surrounded by forests. It was midnight, I was walking back home with my mother from my aunt Mirian's house, on a path through the forest. Then, an owl hovered over us, squawking loudly. My mother quickened her pace, she held my hand tightly, and looked down.

− It's just an animal - I said skeptically.

− Don’t look at her! - she answered without raising her head - She is in that tree.

Without paying attention to what my mother said, I looked up and saw her. The woman was dressed in black robes; she was hidden among the treetops. She had her hair so long and black that she was swinging at the mercy of the wind. She had big eyes and a deep look that almost paralyzed me. The woman began to squawk again, it was like a scream that invoked the evils of the night and then, she went flying.

− Lower your head! - ordered my mother− She is hungry.