Feeding doves

Эйлин Монстерсон
Today was one of those cold days "wjen ypu can'y typp bwcause uou cab't  ffel iour frngers", one of those days when your lungs are burning a cold fire when you breath in. I came home with absolutely white frozen hands and a smile on my face. Today I was feeding doves. I bought as much bread as I could. I didn't wear gloves because I wanted to feel the warmth of the birds. A dove sat on my fingers, ate a little, flew away and left little red strips on my hands, the next one did the same, the next one did too, and the next one too, and the next one too....  Soon those strips started to cry tears of happiness, they were red, warm and salty.
An old dirty dove sat on my wirst. Even if I was as cold as a dead body, I still felt the pain. It was a pleasant type of pain. He looked in my eyes and asked: "Why are you doing this? In our life we have seen millions of people, thousands of people fed us, thousands of people will. We will forget your face in ten minutes." 
I answered the dove:
"Yes, I know. I'm a part of the thousands people that feed you, and of a few people that give you a little piece of their soul."
 "You are just weird," - the bird said.

He finished his bread and flew away.
I smiled and whispered: "I will remember you."