Crowbar

The crowbar is the bar that crows. The crow is the bird that caws. The caw is the sound that kills all hope of ever living again. Do you see? Do you remember?

But that is always the question, do you remember? For it is all rendered worthwhile if only someone remembers... or that's how the story goes.

Who ever actually verifies these things?

Perhaps I can verify the crowbar.

It is a crowbar. It is heavy, cold, hard, weighing lankily in the hand... on end, it is sharp and curved and black and it... yes. It does crow. It is a crowbar. It acts as one, feels as one, operates in form and function as a thing that will crow.. And it is a bar.

The only thing missing is the caw.