“Delivery for Mrs and Mrs Penguin,” Steve Stork said, peering around the Mangrove. He had thought it strange they were in warmer climes, but then with climate change nothing was quite the same anymore.
Perhaps he read the label wrong, but he checked it three times. Percy Penguin, two Jungle Parade, The Amazon. His wings were getting tired, and he nearly fell asleep on the way over the north pole.
It was too late now – he tapped on the bark and gently placed his charge on the branch of a tree. Bless the little tyke, he had slept all the way there. His little snores still rustled the leaves around him.
“Safe journey,” he whispered, as a tiny pair of eyes peered out of the open doorway.
It was only when he was half way home, that he noticed the mix-up. There were two cards stuck together, one with the animal’s name, and on the back the address. What would happen to him when he got back? He wasn’t sure, but at the very least he would be on desk duty for a while.