Published by Mike Sutton at Smashwords
Copyright 2011 Daved Ayres
“They say that a duck's quack doesn't echo.” The old man slurred as he swung the half empty fluted glass of bubbly in an arch before him. His audience, teachers the lot of them, watched on in stunned awe. “Which is of course preposterous. I mean a quack from a duck is just ordinary sound, waves of energy that are disturbing air molecules, much like energy is passed through water in wave form from one point to another. Saying that a duck's quack doesn't make an echo is like saying that a dropping a corvette into a pond won't make a splash. Just because it's a corvette! And of course we all know it does. Well, we're all willing to try that experiment at least. I think that Mrs. Stolly has a corvette.” The old man grinned.
An expanding ripple laughter passed through the crowd of educators. Polite, or nervous? It was difficult to tell. What was the difference? At least half of them would love to see Mrs. Stolly's corvette dumped into a pond, maybe with the woman herself strapped in it. Her husband too. And their dog. Just saying so aloud, wasn't too wise if one wanted to remain employed for very long. The old man didn't seem to take heed of any such niceties as he just plowed forward with the lecture, the pitch of his voice rising as his excitement grew.