Mina didn’t know her exact age, but today felt different. A pang of loneliness, a cold ache in her tiny heart, marked this day as special, or perhaps, particularly bleak. She was a puppy, abandoned on her birthday, a cruel twist of fate that had shaped her young life.
The world was a cold, unforgiving place. A world of concrete and indifference. She remembered the warmth of something soft, the comforting rhythm of a heartbeat, the playful tussle with siblings. But those memories were fading, replaced by the harsh reality of the streets.
Today, as the sun climbed higher, casting long, indifferent shadows, Mina wandered the streets, her tiny body a fragile silhouette against the urban landscape. Hunger gnawed at her, a constant companion. Garbage cans were her pantry, offering meager scraps that barely sustained her.
She was a ghost in this bustling world, invisible to most. People hurried past, their eyes fixed on their own concerns. No one saw the fear in her eyes, the longing in her heart. She was just a puppy, a stray, a creature without a name or a home.
As the day wore on, the city began to hum with activity. People went about their lives, oblivious to the tiny creature struggling to survive. Mina found a sheltered spot beneath a discarded cardboard box. It offered little protection from the cold, but it was a sanctuary of sorts.
As night fell, the city transformed into a world of shadows and lights. Mina curled up in her cardboard box, her small body trembling. She thought of the warmth she’d once known, the love she’d never experienced. Today, her birthday, was a stark reminder of her solitary existence. No one had remembered, no one had cared. She was just a puppy, lost and alone in a world that seemed to have forgotten about her.
