Adam Banks Mighty Ducks Novels & Stories

As we were walking, she grabbed my hand and pulled me to the riverside. “Look at those ducks.” She pointed to a mother duck swimming by the river with her ducklings. “Would you like to feed them?” I asked. She looked at me, eyes beaming. I chuckled and went over to the canteen inside the park. I bought a few pieces of bread and went back to where Amelia was waiting. “Did you get it?” She asked. I nodded and handed her the paper bag. She pulled out a piece of bread and tore it up into small pieces. The ducks swam to us and Amelia fed them slowly.

The development was a ghost town, and hopeful buyers were stuck in limbo. Kenneth once bragged that they wouldn't finish it, even if they could afford to. The money? Stuffed into the Wadzinski family's bank accounts to fund their designer wardrobes and private jets. His $5,000 shirts, his $20,000 watches—yeah, Kenneth didn't care about regular people. And he definitely didn't care about me. To him, I was just another shiny toy. So, I made my move. I sent an anonymous recording of his confession to some top-tier journalists. It blew up.

Perhaps even the flower bushes would be glad that they're not dying anymore. She and Anabelle had walked to the little pond a few nights back, but they had not seen any ducks, but there they were today, in all of their full glory. There were 7 ducks that she could see so far, the big, mama duck waddling ahead of them and her little duckling trailing behind her. She had though it was a myth before, ducks travelling in a V. Well, not she had at least seen it for herself. She made a mental note to show up at the pond again tomorrow, but with breadcrumbs so she could feed them.