A Russian family, in bone chillingly cold November, are surprised to see spiraling down out of the sky, of all things... a flamingo. They live close to a large body of water, so if anyone would have seen such a thing, it would be them.
They nurse it back to health, feed it, warm it up, and since it doesn't get along well with the family dog, eventually find a home for it with a local zoo. Its in the papers and everything... cool story, not much to it.
Except, a year later, it happens again! Different Flamingo, same Russian family. What the heck?
Best guess so far, is that maybe birds use magnetic lines to navigate and that somehow, a few get their signals crossed and head the wrong way.
And people wonder why I stopped reading fiction.
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