I know I’m not beautiful but I still hope to receive wishes on my birthday

by Hanze Filo
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Banana was not like other dogs. Born with a crooked jaw and a tongue that perpetually lolled out, he was a creature of oddity. His appearance, a stark deviation from the canine norm, had earned him a life of solitude. People were quick to avert their gaze, their discomfort palpable.

Today was Banana’s third birthday, a milestone unnoticed by the world around him. While other dogs frolicked in parks, their birthdays celebrated with barks and pats, Banana existed on the fringes of society. He was a shadow in the bustling city, a silent observer of a world that had rejected him.

His days were a monotonous cycle of hunger, thirst, and the constant vigilance required to evade harm. People feared him, mistaking his unusual appearance for aggression. Children pointed and laughed, their innocent cruelty cutting deeper than any physical pain.

As the sun began its descent, casting long, melancholic shadows, Banana found solace in a deserted alleyway. He curled into a ball, his crooked jaw resting on his paws. The city lights, a million twinkling stars, offered no warmth, no comfort.

In the quiet of the night, as the world slept, Banana dreamed of a different life. A life where he wasn’t judged by his appearance, where he was loved for the gentle soul that resided within. But as dawn approached, reality crept back in, harsh and unforgiving. Another day began, and with it, another cycle of solitude and rejection.

Banana’s birthday passed without a single acknowledgment, a testament to the cruelty of a world that valued appearance over substance. Yet, amidst the loneliness, a flicker of hope persisted. A belief that one day, someone would see beyond his unusual features and discover the loyal, loving heart that beat within.

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