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- Story Listed as: Fiction For Adults
- Theme: Mystery
- Subject: Comedy / Humor
- Published: 03/27/2017
There was a duck reading a newspaper in a dark alleyway somewhere in west Lawdsonville. That is to say, there was a duck standing on a newspaper and looking at the words with a hollow gaze. But that’s close enough, right? The nearby shadows were stirring, making the duck feel uncomfortable. It is hard to say what exactly the shadows were stirring because, being shadows, it was hard to see what they were doing. It smelled like soup though. It smelled like it was a soup that was perhaps missing a critical ingredient… like duck.
After a few moments of discomfort, the duck decided to take its business elsewhere. She picked up the newspaper in her bill and waddled quickly out of the alleyway. She was going to be nobody’s snack tonight. It was a very important night for her, for she was going to receive an award for excellence in the field of astrophysics. She had decided to waddle home, as the streets seemed particularly hungry tonight.
Upon the thus far unnamed duck’s arrival at her house, she found that all of her belongings had been violently disordered by someone other than her, and there were new posters all over her walls. Posters of giraffes wearing designer wigs. This must’ve been the work of her ex-partner, a giraffe with a very poor fashion sense. “Not again,” she quacked. She then pushed the receiver off the phone and pecked in the number for police. Nothing. The phone line had been cut! A maniacal cackle pierced the air around her and she gulped nervously. The shadows were stirring again. And the smell of duck soup was permeating the air.
The police arrived at the duck’s home, after she had failed to claim her prize at the award ceremony. All they found in the house was a ceramic spoon in the middle of the floor.
Duck Story(Peter Lowton)
There was a duck reading a newspaper in a dark alleyway somewhere in west Lawdsonville. That is to say, there was a duck standing on a newspaper and looking at the words with a hollow gaze. But that’s close enough, right? The nearby shadows were stirring, making the duck feel uncomfortable. It is hard to say what exactly the shadows were stirring because, being shadows, it was hard to see what they were doing. It smelled like soup though. It smelled like it was a soup that was perhaps missing a critical ingredient… like duck.
After a few moments of discomfort, the duck decided to take its business elsewhere. She picked up the newspaper in her bill and waddled quickly out of the alleyway. She was going to be nobody’s snack tonight. It was a very important night for her, for she was going to receive an award for excellence in the field of astrophysics. She had decided to waddle home, as the streets seemed particularly hungry tonight.
Upon the thus far unnamed duck’s arrival at her house, she found that all of her belongings had been violently disordered by someone other than her, and there were new posters all over her walls. Posters of giraffes wearing designer wigs. This must’ve been the work of her ex-partner, a giraffe with a very poor fashion sense. “Not again,” she quacked. She then pushed the receiver off the phone and pecked in the number for police. Nothing. The phone line had been cut! A maniacal cackle pierced the air around her and she gulped nervously. The shadows were stirring again. And the smell of duck soup was permeating the air.
The police arrived at the duck’s home, after she had failed to claim her prize at the award ceremony. All they found in the house was a ceramic spoon in the middle of the floor.
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