Subject: The Bread

Dear humans,

You may not know me, but I know you. I’m often watching you. Some people even have a phobia of me watching you. I believe it’s called anatidaephobia. But let me assure you, there’s no reason to be afraid. I won’t hurt you. I’ll just stare at you. Always.

The reason I’m writing this is because of the bread. I really like bread. And the only way for me to get bread is when you chuck it at me. The problem is, ever since they put up that sign, you’ve stopped throwing bread. Unfortunately, I don’t know how to read. I can’t speak human either, which is why it is very fortunate that I found this notebook and a pen in a backpack a kid left on the same park bench he was sitting on. It wasn’t stealing, because the kid should not have been so careless by having the backpack a full two feet away from him. But back to the bread. Since I can’t read, I asked some of my other friends to read what the sign said. When they started talking with their mouths full of food, I flew away, disgusted. They know how to read, but if they don’t have the manners to swallow, I don’t even want to hear what they have to say. I tried to go to the store to get some bread, like humans do, but the doors wouldn’t open! Can you believe it? No matter how hard I pecked, those stubborn doors refused to move. While I was waiting for the doors to comply, I saw a little girl walking towards the store, holding bread.

You need to understand that I’ve been without bread for days, so I wasn’t about to patiently wait for her to throw it at me. I just ran over and started eating it. Turns out, that bread was her hand, and the squishy piece of bread that I ate was her finger. I thought the red stuff gushing from her might be jam, which is almost as good as bread.

It wasn’t jam.

To keep this from happening again, please throw bread again.

Thanks,

The duck.