Flash Fiction: The Black Raven

For those who may not know, I have two day jobs. I tutor students of all ages in reading and writing. I also coach freshmen girls' basketball. Anyways, a few weeks ago, I was tutoring an eighth grader in our writing module. My student picked a journaling topic. As an instructor, we are encouraged to journal and share with the student, so I wrote for ten minutes from this sentence: Due to the raven that follows him wherever he goes, a young man is convinced that something terrible is about to happen.

Below is my raw story from the ten minutes of writing time.

Bob turned around. Sitting above him in a tree branch was a black raven. It cawed at him. Bob shook his head and turned around, continuing on his walk through the streets. Starling was filled with people on this warm summer day. A man in a black suit hailed a cab and two women ahead of him were laughing while they walked.

Bob stopped at the street corner. The street sign read Third and Broad. While he waited for the signal to change, he glanced ahead. On top of the street light was the black raven.

Wasn't there an old wive's tale about ravens? He thought they were bad luck or a bad omen. He shrugged it off and started across the street with the change of the signal. Bob walked two more blocks and turned left. His meeting was on Fifth Street. When he turned on Fifth, the crowds diminished. The silence gave him a chill, but he moved forward.

When he reached the steps of the Seers' Building, the raven was sitting on the silver overhang of the building. The raven's black feathers were a stark contrast to the shiny building.

Bob strolled through the revolving doors and took the elevator to the thirteenth floor. He stepped off the elevator to find a receptionist's desk. The woman had black hair and green eyes. She stared at him.

"Mr. Jones, I presume," she said. "Yes." "Mr. Ozark is waiting for you. Go ahead." She pointed to a large door behind her.

Bob pushed open the heavy door. Inside the room, Mr. Raven Ozark had his back to Bob, looking out the window behind his desk. Perched on the colossal desk was the black raven. Bob gasped. 

Here's my question for you–should the story continue? If so, what happens next? I'd love your help to finish the story!