DUCK, DUCK, GOOSE
written by: Leanne Howard Kenney
@neeneebucket
As if I didn’t have enough to worry about.
The three rubber duckies on my desk are not getting along right now. I know not why.
They’re not quacking.
They’re not swimming.
And duckie No. 3, ruffled, has his back turned to duckies Numbers 1 and 2.
These aren’t your typical shufflers. That’s why I so worry.
And, please, don’t worry about me.
I am not some anatiferous nut.
I just believe my rubber ducks quack, waddle and fight wildfires while I am asleep at night. Nothing nutty there.
Did I fail to mention my team are fire fighters? One is a first responder. Though I know not whom. But I often find him on the floor in the morning. Having him down there makes me feel even more safe knowing he is waddling around the bedroom checking for sparks while I sleep.
Two of the waterfowl have axes to cut through fallen debris while the other carries a flashlight to help lead our way to safety.
But now that I think of it, duckie No. 2 wears a pirate hat. Perhaps these quackers aren’t as innocent as I think. Perhaps the flashlight leads duckies Number 1 and Number 3 to me at night and those axes are to be used to — NO! MALLARDS, NO!
Duck hunters.
—30—
- Another’s Eyes - February 11, 2021
- Ignominy, My - May 12, 2020
- Desideration - May 28, 2018
