Ducking Duck

(a gentle reminder that your phone hates your personality)

You were mad. Your thumbs knew it.
But autocorrect whispered: "No no, sweetie. You meant duck."

Now there's a duck. On a cross. Flipping you off.
Somewhere between divine comedy and typo tragedy.

This is not a bird.
This is every unsent text, every rage unscreamed, every “fuck” turned “duck” when you needed it most.

🦆 🙃 ✝️
Holy quack.

Mixed stuff on canvas - acrylic, oil 50x60 cm.