Historical fiction · Set in
The ducks take over
I went down to the pond this morning to fetch a length of hose we’d left on the bank after harvest. The ducks had settled all along it. One had its feet on the coupling and gave me a good scolding when I came close.
I tugged at the dry end. The hose held fast until I got the coupling loose, and then it let go all at once. I sat down hard in the cold mud. Every duck took to the water except the one that had been doing the talking.
I went home with the hose over my shoulder and hung my trousers by the stove. By the time I looked out again, that duck had reclaimed the very same spot.