This week:?Even the fittest ducks have feelings
I know I’m unique an’ all, but I don’t feel like I ‘fit’ in anymore. Once upon a time there were two of us ruddys. We could have taken over the world with our offspring; mini golden ducks could have horded the banks of the lake, grouped in clans of sparkling feathers. But that dream’s disappeared. Life is no longer golden, just a dull grey.
I still remember that day that Mrs Trevor disappeared. A think a little bit inside of me died. They never found her body.
My new girlfriend, Jazzy, was a chance to start over, recreate the dream. But it’s all gone wrong. I think I’m infertile. No matter how hard we try, fruitful copulation just seems to evade us.
I’m bitter when I see those other parents, brandishing their comparatively common-coloured decendents for the world to see. I keep to the corners of the buildings, watching from a distance with resentment in my eyes. Jazzy doesn’t understand what’s wrong with me; no one really does.
Maybe we’ll adopt. Maybe IVF treatment is the key. Maybe I’m doomed to remain childless till the end of my days.
I think I’m just going to throw myself in the lake and hope one of the evil black swans comes and drowns me.