The other day, I was sitting in my usual spot for a weekend morning. That is, I was sitting on one of the benches near the local pond with a book, and a little box full of crusts of bread to feed the ducks.
There was a lot of noise, and I found it distracting from my reading. I looked up, frowning at first, because I thought that the local children might be bothering the ducks again. Mind you, I was pretty quick to work out that wasn’t the cause of the commotion. No, a mother duck was nearby, and it was her that was squawking horribly as she swam around the long grass.
One of her babies had got tangled up in the grass, and I was very quick to reach over to free the little duck. As I went back to my bench, I noticed a young boy staring at me with his mouth open.
“You helped? I thought that you didn’t care!”
I went back to the bench, and picked up my book. “Not for children.” The boy, rather than being scared, continued staring. “So, get away from me… Now!”
He ran back to his mother; screaming.
Written for Sunday photo fiction