| General Flash Fiction posted August 25, 2024 |
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A child experiences loss of a pet
Donald
by RodG
On a beautiful day, Billy and I both wore sad faces as we
trudged through the park.
"Can't I keep Donald a little longer?" My ten-year-old grandson asked, his eyes on the male mallard in the cage he held.
I pointed to the school in the distance. "School begins for you tomorrow, and neither you or your mom will be home to care for him. Donald's fully grown and should be able to fend for himself now."
I knew Billy wasn't convinced.
A month before we'd found the duckling in that same park. For some reason he'd been abandoned and no other ducks were around.
As we walked toward the pond, I pointed. "Look! There's other ducks just like Donald out there. He won't be lonesome."
"But I . . . will be." Tears ran down Billy's cheeks.
In that single month Donald had become one of the family. He slept on a pillow near Billy's bed and joined the meal conversations, quacking constantly.
He wasn't quacking now.
"Open the cage," I said, "and let him out."
Billy wiped tears away as he did so. Donald stepped tentatively onto the soft grass and shook his green head as if something was familiar.
Some of the swimming ducks were quacking. Donald heard them.
He waddled swiftly to the water and seconds later was circling among them.
Then abruptly he stopped swimming, looked toward us, and quacked.
Sobbing, Billy threw himself into my arms. "Grandpa, he said goodbye."
"Yes," I moaned, "but he's happy."
trudged through the park.
"Can't I keep Donald a little longer?" My ten-year-old grandson asked, his eyes on the male mallard in the cage he held.
I pointed to the school in the distance. "School begins for you tomorrow, and neither you or your mom will be home to care for him. Donald's fully grown and should be able to fend for himself now."
I knew Billy wasn't convinced.
A month before we'd found the duckling in that same park. For some reason he'd been abandoned and no other ducks were around.
As we walked toward the pond, I pointed. "Look! There's other ducks just like Donald out there. He won't be lonesome."
"But I . . . will be." Tears ran down Billy's cheeks.
In that single month Donald had become one of the family. He slept on a pillow near Billy's bed and joined the meal conversations, quacking constantly.
He wasn't quacking now.
"Open the cage," I said, "and let him out."
Billy wiped tears away as he did so. Donald stepped tentatively onto the soft grass and shook his green head as if something was familiar.
Some of the swimming ducks were quacking. Donald heard them.
He waddled swiftly to the water and seconds later was circling among them.
Then abruptly he stopped swimming, looked toward us, and quacked.
Sobbing, Billy threw himself into my arms. "Grandpa, he said goodbye."
"Yes," I moaned, "but he's happy."
Me, Myself and I Flash Fiction writing prompt entry
|
Writing Prompt Write a first-person flash fiction story on any subject. Maximum of 250 words. |
Photo courtesy of Google images.
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