June 18, 2017 – Clockwork Purple – writers group
Our random book was chosen by Gail:
Entering the Circle by Olga Kharitidi, MD.
The random page 10 chosen unseen by Aingeal;
Line 11 was chosen unseen by Charles.
Prompt with 45 minutes plus two for tidying up – Alexa set the timer for 47 minutes and the prompt was read aloud.
I hoped the poor fellow would survive.
It was a lovely spring Sunday morning there in Bend, Oregon, and many people were settled into their seats in the many local churches, restaurants, and bars taking in their personal spiritual nourishment with their friends. Everyone but Richard. He was having a slow, lonely stroll along the Deschutes River, just walking. Nothing special, just walking and sort of enjoying himself and the lovely view. The exact place was a path on the water’s edge of Mirror Pond some twenty feet below a decorative railing that had been installed a year earlier. He watched the ducks for a moment, and not thinking in any conscious way he idly decided to sit on the rustic wooden bench and figure out what these ducks were doing.
After a minute it became obvious to Richard that they were totally involved in doing ducky things. Swimming along, and occasionally ducking their ducky heads into the pond to the bottom of the shallow places with their ducky bottoms sticking into the air, and apparently finding things they loved to eat. He mused that those things he would probably find disgusting, but maybe not. He reconsidered. Hmm, chances are those ducks have very refined palates and are choosing delectable little things. If I carefully chose enough of those little things the ducks struggled so hard to get and had them cooked up by Dave, the chef over at the Drake restaurant only a one-minute walk from his spot, they might be able to make the best entrée imaginable. That was the idle thought drifting through Richard’s mind when a single but very colorful mallard skidded into the little group of half-submerged ducks.
For a few moments everything was quiet, and the various ducks were just swimming about appearing to Richard to be about to go searching for another tasty treat on the bottom of the pond when – SMASH – and in an instant, there was total chaos. Wings beating the water and air, raucous squawks deafening to Richard’s ears, and this interloper obviously was creating a huge kerfuffle. He was attacking first one duck then another of the previously peaceful flock.
This was totally crazy! It seemed totally stupid. Outrageous! Richard was so annoyed he looked around for a rock, or stick, or anything he could throw at that awful bird. Anything that would chase that vicious unwanted bully away.
The pursuit of one of the male ducks was so scary and chaotic that he accidentally flew directly into a bush hanging over the water and got entangled, and soon he was hanging there helplessly ensnared. The more he struggled the more entangled he became.
“I hoped the poor fellow would survive,” said Richard out loud, even though there were no humans around to hear his heartfelt plaint, and as he said that, the bully flew off with the most lovely of the hens. “Well,” thought Richard, “I guess this is how survival of the fittest works,” and he headed off to continue his lonely walk.