Coming round the bend in the road, I had to jam on my brakes as there was a red haired lady standing in the middle of the road, flapping her arms wildly. I missed her and continued.
The next day, it happened again. The next day, again. The fourth time, as I was not in a hurry, I stopped and asked her what she was doing.
'It's me ducks,' she said.
'Your ducks?' I lamely replied.
'Yes they've escaped. They're all along the road. Two have already been flattened by passing motorists.' Sure enough, further along the road, you could see ducks waddling in every direction and cars trying desperately to avoid them.
'Do you know what the last motorist who stopped cruelly said?' she continued. 'He said 'lunch' and that he was going to ring up his friend who ran a Chinese restaurant and tell him that there was Beijing Duck to be had. Disgraceful.'
I drove around the same corner yesterday and the lady was there, but standing peacefully on the verge, hands in her pockets. There was not one duck in sight. She must have rescued them and put them all back into the farmyard.
Happiness
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