Shrimp Cocktail

Here is my very first story, which is called “The Shrimp Cocktail”

It was the hottest day of summer in Africa. But it was an extra special day for me.

I am Rose, one of the many flamingos in my flock, but today I was treated like royalty.

Today, there was a tourist. A human, of course. He was staying in a - what’s the human word? Oh right - hotel near the beach where my flock was for the day, catching red-wigglies, and he decided to come down to see us.

I was the only brave one to come up to him, and I was greatly rewarded.

You see, he was staying in a fancy hotel, and had brought down some food, which I think was meant only for him, but that changed.

I was only really interested in one thing he had brought, and it had red-wigglies, but the humans called it a shrimp cocktail.

He made a weird noise, which I believe the humans call laughter, when I came over and started pecking at it. He then gave in, and held it out to me. I quickly wolfed it down and chattered my beak at him as a thank-you.

The next day, he came to the beach with another one, and gave it to me. I was very grateful, and sad when my flock was going to another beach the day after that, but flamingos don’t abandon their flocks, and plus there were hardly any red-wigglies at the beach anymore.

But when I came back to the same beach moons later, he was there to give me a red-wiggly cocktail.