#creativity duck

They went by Duck, it was the only name they’d ever known.  

People came from near and far in hopes of a blessing, an end to all their creative struggles. Whenever someone came knocking Duck would invite them in. They’d serve tea and talk with the person, getting to know them and their projects. 

Sometimes the problem would be solved in talking, inspiration lighting up their eyes as they reached for pen and paper. Other times a person would prove themselves unworthy of inspiration, demanding a blessing or talking only money and fame. Oftentimes people would become angry or violent when Duck told them they would not receive a blessing. 

For those who did get a blessing, the spell would last for a day, in that day they would be kept in Duck’s home. Duck always had paper and pens, usually musicians brought their own instruments and artists brought their own supplies. The few times they didn’t Duck would allow them to buy what they needed from a nearby store. For a day, Duck would provide all sustenance and a study stream of inspiration.

This week had been a slow week for Duck, few people were willing to travel deep into the woods when it was snowing. They were enjoying a cup of tea by a warm fire when they heard a faint knock at the door. Duck ran to the door and opened it to find a small girl who collapsed in their arms.

Duck gasped, feeling how cold the girl was and immediately brought her inside. They put the girl in a warm bath and went to make some more tea. When Duck returned the girl was awake, although disoriented and drowsy. She tried to speak, but Duck stopped her with a cup of warm tea.  The girl drank as she soaked, slowly warming up. 

When the girl was dressed in warm clothes Duck sat her down at the table. 

“What did you come here child?” Duck asked.

“I got lost in the woods.” The girl replied.

“You must be a foolish child, coming out here alone.”

“I didn’t expect to get lost.”

“It’s the middle of the winter and you’ve come here alone. What would you have done had you not found me in time?”

“Probably found someone else.”

“There is no one else here! You could have died you foolish girl!” Duck’s anger exploded. “Was inspiration really worth risking your life for?!”

“Inspiration?” The girl looked genuinely confused.

Duck looked at the girl quizzically.

“I came here to camp a few weeks ago, when the snowstorm hit I lost my shelter.”

“You didn’t come for me?”

“I didn’t know anyone lived in these woods.”

“You’ve surely heard of me. I’m Duck.”

The girl snorted. “What kind of name is Duck?”

Duck’s mouth fell open. “You really have no Idea.”

“I would probably get going. I don’t want to be a bother.” Said the girl.

‘No, it’s much too cold for a girl like you to be out there alone. Stay with me till the weather clears up.”

The girl was silent for a moment. “I’m Angel,” she said, “I’d love to stay here, if you’ll let me.”