Flash Fiction by David

The annual Rubber Ducky Race started as usual, with hundreds of the cute little bobbers released into the Kennisaw river. Almost every stretch of water is covered by video cameras, assuring that nothing floats afoul. But, just before the finish, when folks discover if their duck wins, there’s a culvert that passes under the highway. It’s too dark and damp for cameras, and that’s where the real fun began. Little rubber ducks went in, but live baby ducks came out. Was it a miracle or magic? The Fowler family knows, but will never tell. Well, them, and Baby Ducks Direct.