I sat by the duck pond.
The water glimmered like glass in the sunlight, and the round, soft ducks drifted across without a care. One let out a cute little quack, something that faintly resembled a sigh. Another blinked at me, then turned in a slow circle — as if to show off its best side. It was the same on all sides.
Everything moved slowly. Even time.
There was no need to talk or try. Just the soft plip of water, soft ducks floating by, and the feeling that maybe the world wasn’t in such a rush after all.
I stayed until my shoulders forgot they had ever been tense.
And when I left, the ducks were still there — doing nothing in particular. Just enjoying the beautiful pond.
