Caledonian

His room was cold so I got under the covers

In a cold shirt; he said it doesn't matter

What if he's right?

Children's book

Once upon a time there was a little duckling, who went to school for the first time carrying a red backpack. She was scared, and so her mummy prepared a delicious lunchbox for her to share with her new friends during break time.

Walking in the classroom, she felt strange, all her classmates looked so afraid too. She sat at the back - although she always preferred the front of the class - as she was late. She settled down, talking out her new pink pencil case with all the colour pens and pencils her mummy treated her with. She organized everything neatly on the desk and waited in silence for the teacher to come in.

She looked around. The classroom was the colour green and all the other ducklings were chattering away, all the same in their school uniform, excited. Then her eyes rested on the little duckling sitting in front of her. She paused.

'That's a strange duckling!' she thought.

It was green and had no feathers. She was curious. She'd never seen a duckling like that before. As she was thinking that, the duckling turned round - he must've felt her staring. He had a big, green nose and his skin was glossy and smooth. She liked the different duckling. He was colourful! She smiled. To her surprise the strange little duckling smiled back, showing his straight white teeth. Our duckling then looked down. She was blushing.

During break time, as she was walking towards a group of ducklings to share her lunch with, she heard some of her classmates talking about a freak. She hadn't heard that word before. She asked them what it meant.

'Haven't you seen it?' Haven't you seen the crocodile?'

The crocodile? She thought for a moment. Of course! The duckling in front of her wasn't a duckling at all - he was a crocodile!

'What a freak!' they said. She thought he was special.

It wasn't long before they became friends, the crocodile and our little ducking. He had liked her red backpack, and they talked. They walked around together during breaks. She enjoyed staring in his deep blue eyes and he liked her beak. He said it was funny, and stroked it. They used to meet in the neighborhood - for they discovered they were also neighbours! - and used to play on the swings at the park. The crocodile was funny, and kind. He liked making the duckling laugh. He thought she made the cutest little quacking sound he'd ever heard.

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The years passed by, and the duckling was turning into a graceful duck. Her crocodile was growing, too. He was now taller than her and the most handsome boy in their year, she thought. He was very good in sports. The crocodile liked football very much - it was his dream, to be a footballer - and so the duckling liked to watch him play. She'd see him run behind the ball and felt a flutter in her wings whenever he'd turn towards her.

One day, after a very special match, the crocodile ran to our duckling and gave her the biggest hug, lifting her off her feet and up in the air. She smiled and giggled.

'I love you,' he said when he put her down.

But her legs felt weak. As if up in the air, still.

'I love you too,' she said, and pecked him on the cheek.

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The years went by again, and full grown - almost - the crocodile and duckling had a fight in the park. She shouted, and cried. He was right. You see, there were other ducklings in their lives right now and it had become confusing. They left the swings earlier than usual that night, and walked in different directions. They were heartbroken.

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Eight years after the day they first met, the duck and crocodile met again. At a bar, this time. They had some drinks. She was tipsy, he was open. Opposite her, telling her everything he hadn't said for so many years. She spoke, shared her news and they felt it again. It was painful and warm and uncomfortable, the feeling that had come back. She heard him talk about his work and all the girls that liked him and she talked about the new country she'd moved to and her new home. At the end of the night, he kissed her goodnight. She cried because it felt like he'd said 'GOODBYE'.

'I love you,' said the crocodile to the duck.

'Me too,' she quacked.

But it was impossible. Physically impossible. He smiled, and she looked at his teeth. They'd grown chiselled, and sharp.