Guki didn’t know it was his birthday. Birthdays were for those with homes, with families who baked cakes and sang songs. He was a stray, a tiny creature adrift in a vast, indifferent city. His world was a harsh symphony of car horns, the rumble of stomachs, and the constant threat of danger.
Today was no different from yesterday. The sun rose, casting long, indifferent shadows over the city. Guki scavenged for scraps, his tiny body shivering in the morning chill. People hurried past, their eyes fixed on the ground, oblivious to the small, hopeful gaze that followed them.
He was a blur of brown and white, a fleeting image in the minds of those who noticed him at all. A kind soul might toss him a piece of bread, a fleeting moment of warmth in a cold world. But for the most part, he was invisible, a ghost haunting the edges of human existence.
As the day wore on, fatigue crept into his small body. He found a sheltered spot beneath a parked car, a refuge from the world’s indifference. The city lights twinkled above, a distant, cold beauty. He closed his eyes, his mind filled with images of warmth and safety. In his dreams, he was a puppy in a loving home, surrounded by the scent of familiar people. But when he woke, the harsh reality of his life returned, a bitter contrast to the sweetness of his dreams.
Guki’s birthday passed unnoticed, a silent marker in the relentless march of time. He was just a puppy, a survivor in a world that cared little for its smallest inhabitants. And yet, in the depths of his small heart, there was a flicker of hope, a tiny flame that refused to be extinguished.
