Crystal Duck

Title reference: ‘Friends’ S1E24 (I say this about all episodes, but watch it, it’s my favourite)

“Like birds of a feather, we stick together.”

Unless we’re suddenly not made of feathers, but of crystal.

Beautiful and intricate and vulnerable and easily broken.

One of my best friends and I threw money to the wind a week ago and watched two movies. Back to back. Double feature. Call it what you want.

Spoiler alert: Both were hilarious, both were inspiring and deep. The first one we watched, however, had this crystal bowl that the mom hid up in a cupboard, away from curious, reckless little people hands. Eventually we get to the inevitable part in the movie where the curious, reckless little human does collide with said crystal bowl, and it shatters all over the floor, causing the mom to sigh in resignation, and naked feet bleed from specks of glass.

As a young adult without certainty of what she should be doing, what job she should be looking for, or how to pay for rent while she looks for the former two things, sometimes she feels like that crystal duck I mentioned in the beginning.

If birds of a feather stick together, ducks of crystal….

Not so much. A little more fragile, a little more alone.

The first time we met, I was sitting in my parents’ home, snacking on their biscuits, dreaming up how my life was going to look in 2019. Now I’m on my ace, deciding whether to take the job or not, hoping that when I jump there won’t be shards of broken crystal to step on and pick up, but rather that I would find my feathers and fly with the rest.

Giving credits where credits are due: