No, it’s not the end but the real end is less satisfying. Most came back, but he penned them in his back yard only to have the quackers waddle under the gate never to be seen again. A plaintive figure he was, walking the streets calling his ducks. Not unlike Schreiber sitting in his chair, bundled against the cold wind, wondering if it was too late to make new friends.
So they became wild things again. How is that not satisfying … ? The plaintive figure, yes, but he got to see them one more time, and that’s a multi-faceted inquiry anyway.
Such a lovely idyll! Has anyone seen my ducks?
Comment by FierceBaby — October 13, 2006 @ 11:05 pm
Let’s have a closer look, nearer to where we liberated them…
nope, still no ducks.
Comment by michael — October 14, 2006 @ 8:36 am
How do we revisit the story of FierceBaby’s ducklings?
Comment by anon — October 14, 2006 @ 11:23 am
Hear, hear.
Comment by Jennifer — October 17, 2006 @ 10:42 pm
Starts here and ends here.
Comment by michael — October 18, 2006 @ 6:58 am
IS that truly the end? You never heard whether they ever came “home” again? I can easily imagine you’d never simply ask …
Comment by el Kib — October 18, 2006 @ 7:41 am
No, it’s not the end but the real end is less satisfying. Most came back, but he penned them in his back yard only to have the quackers waddle under the gate never to be seen again. A plaintive figure he was, walking the streets calling his ducks. Not unlike Schreiber sitting in his chair, bundled against the cold wind, wondering if it was too late to make new friends.
Comment by michael — October 19, 2006 @ 6:10 am
So they became wild things again. How is that not satisfying … ? The plaintive figure, yes, but he got to see them one more time, and that’s a multi-faceted inquiry anyway.
Comment by adam — October 19, 2006 @ 6:49 am