, , , , , , , , , , ,

“Thank you”, I heard a fragile voice say.

I looked around, I could see no one who could have spoken to me, after all I just got home, but no one else was there yet.

“I am here”, I heard the voice again, I looked down into my arms, the penguin that I was carrying looked into my eyes nodding, I noticed a smile. Wait what??

Earlier that day I had crossed a street and seen a very battered looking penguin sitting on a sidewalk. Penguins are definitely not that common in Paris, but that did not stop me to take it with me.

“Thank you for saving me”, was I hallucinating? This definitely made it easier to know what I should give to the penguin.

After a glass of water and some sardines, that I had found under the kitchen sink, the penguin started telling me its story.

One day whilst swimming in the ocean it completely lost its orientation and could not find its way back to the others. After days of desperately swimming with the feeling of death being near, it ended up being tangled in a fishing net. This meant food, as well as danger.

After weeks of hiding from fishermen it suddenly woke one day with a different sound, where was the engine? Where was the ocean? The feeling was different too, my penguin friend was in for a bumpy ride, but did not know it yet.

Written by Solveig Werner