A Tuna Salad Carton

Looking for containers of emotions

A TUNA SALAD CARTON 

 I crunch dried breadcrumbs and put them into a tuna salad carton doubting that they might be too dry for the ducks. I spray water on the crumbs, close the cover and shake the box. I check the temperature outside, -7.4 F, and leave for a walk.

First having coffee at the kiosk, the seller asks: "Which coffee-pot did you use, the green or the red one?". I answer: "First I took a little from the red one, and the rest from the green one. The red one seems to be running out of coffee anyway." She doesn't seem to know which code to insert in the cashing machine.

The paper cup warms my hand as I walk through the railway station to the riverside holding the breadcrumb carton inside my coat.

Hundreds of ducks! They are panicking in the water, obviously feeling hungry and cold, waiting me to throw them some food as they are used to expecting people do. And I've got only so little to give. Wondering why only few of them fly on the ground, where I had shaken the tiny pile of my bread left-overs. An immense feeling of compassion arises with a hue of shame. I see the water is warmer for their feet than the icy ground. What more can I do here now? Picking some of the crumbs and throwing them amidst the churning flock in the water.

I come back home with a bag of food from the shop. Life is not a battle of survival for me, anymore. I will soon eat a Hawaii-pizza, which I bought because it was on 30-% discount.

I plan to do a longer walk tomorrow, 1.5 miles to the supermarket, and buy fresh rye bread for the ducks and drakes of the flock. For them it doesn't matter if the bread is on discount or not.

Neither for me.

Author's Note

I search containers for various emotions , learning better English as I journal in Finnish and translate the little stories into English . Feedback is welcome , thank you