Drake sat in the rain. He felt low and dejected. He felt as if all the progress he’d made was wasted – a pointless effort. No matter how hard he tried, he just seemed to end up back where he started.
He looked up at the dull English sky and shook himself. “Time for a change,” he thought. What may have been a sigh whispered into the air. A light breeze was picking up but he forged on, never quite defeated no matter how hard his trials became.
The rain set the trees to shivering, and the drops they shed plashed into the rushing waters. “Why,” Drake thought to himself, “do humans actually think ducks love the rain?” And he paddled on, upstream, to the shelter of the reeds.
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