Angel Wings

The sound of ducks quacking and the fresh breeze greeted us when the In-Between changed shape.

We found ourselves in a park. The park was conveniently a few blocks from the school, so some students went there after school.

For the first time, I was one of those students.

This park had a large duck pond with crystal-clear waters, lily pads, and lotus flowers blooming. Numerous ducks were floating on the pond, enjoying the afternoon sunlight. Near the lake was a wooden bench with faded paint. It wasn't much of a surprise, knowing how old it is.

Sitting on the bench was a man with a long coat and a beanie, seemingly lost in his thoughts. I didn't pay him any mind as I sat beside him.

I was planning to mind my business since I was there to relax, not be a busybody. But the man suddenly leaned forward toward the ducks. I noticed he was bringing out a plastic bag with vegetables.

I couldn't help but frown.

'Why the hell is this man holding a plastic bag full of vegetables in the park?'

"...I'm feeding the ducks." The man replied.

I looked at him, surprised, and he suddenly spoke and answered my question.

"Did I say that out loud?" I asked as I felt blood rushing to my cheeks.

"Yes," the man confirmed. "Yes, you did."

I became flustered, stammering a few times as words eluded me. After a few more hopeless attempts, I sighed and gathered my bearings.

"Sorry, didn't mean to impose or anything like that." I lowered my head in apology, scratching the back of it. "I just find it an unconventional food to feed the ducks. Bread is the road most taken."

"Ah, a Robert Frost reference." The man sounded impressed.

My stormy gray eyes widened in surprise. I didn't think he'd managed to catch on to that because I said the opposite of how the poem went. Moreover, I didn't expect a random person in the park to be familiar with that poem.

"It is a rather famous poem, Evangeline." Death said.

"Is it?" I asked, and my head spun to look at him.

"It is," Death confirmed.

"Few people know, but bread is bad for ducks and other water birds." The man said it out of nowhere.

"Really?" I tilted my head to the side, confused.

'Why was he saying this?' I thought to myself. This time, I ensured I didn't accidentally say this out loud.

The stranger nodded.

"It can cause them to get a condition called angel wings." The bulky man explained.

"Angel wings?" I repeated. "That sounds nice."

"It's not," he clarified.

"Oh." I felt embarrassed about not knowing about this term.

I wasn't fond of animals, much less of ducks, so I wasn't aware of their possible ailments. After all, I wanted to be a human's health-allied personnel, not a veterinarian.

"You wanted to be in the medical field?" Death looked at me with a surprised expression on his face.

"Why do you look so shocked?" I countered his question with my own. "Do I not look suitable to be one?"

"Not really," Death said. "I just didn't think you'd be interested in such a field since it's a job that requires extensive social interaction while you're..." He trailed.

"Anti-social?" I supplied the word for him.

"Something like that,"

"Remember when you stepped on my hand? I applied first-aid as soon as possible."

I chuckled at the thought; it seemed like quite some time had passed when that memory happened. However, I'm pretty sure that the concept of time is nonexistent in this abyss of darkness.

"Yeah, you gave me the impression that you're a walking paradox." Death muttered. "Who would want to burn themselves alive but would apply first aid to a minor wound?" He paused, thinking. "Which reminds me, why did you decide to burn yourself alive when you could've chosen less painful ways to kill yourself?"

I shrugged.

"I thought it was a flashy way to go,"

"How unlike you," Death said. "Judging from what we saw so far, I can say that you're the type of person who doesn't want to bother the people around you. So why did you—"

Death couldn't even complete his sentence. The man began giving a hefty explanation about 'angel wings.'

"It's when the bird's feathers grow too quickly, which causes them to strain their muscles and prevent them from flying. Bread is also bad for the environment. Once it rots, it pollutes the water, which causes algae blooms that can cause the ducks to get sick and die."

"Wow, that's informative!" I clasped my hands together with no hint of sarcasm in my voice. Others might have found that sudden information boring, but I was genuinely interested in learning. "Thank you. Now I know."

"Nerd," Death jeered.

"Shut up." I rolled my eyes at him.

"No problem," the huge, bulky stranger replied.

The ducks continued quacking as the stranger grabbed a piece of kale from the bag and threw it at the nearest duck. The duck waddled towards the vegetable and began eating it.

The stranger chuckled softly. It was such a soft and calming sound that I couldn't help but look at the man beside me.

The stranger had a few strands of black hair popping out of his beanie. His eyes were a lovely shade of brown, while his eyebrows were thick and unkempt. Even with his coat covering his body, I could see his pectoralis muscles popping out of his shirt.

Just like Boss.

Wait a minute.

"Boss?!" I shouted, my voice echoing in the huge expanse of the park.

The man's head spun to face me, clearly startled at my sudden outburst. Now that he was looking directly at me, I was sure: It was Boss!

We stared blankly at one another, equally shocked to see each other at the park.