Kun didn’t know his exact age, but he was certain it was around two years. Two years of hunger, cold, and the relentless search for survival. Abandoned as a tiny pup, he’d grown up on the harsh streets, his innocence eroded by the cruel realities of life. Today, his second birthday, was a bitter irony.
He remembered the warmth of something soft, the comforting rhythm of a heartbeat. But those memories were mere echoes, distant and fading. Now, his world was a concrete jungle, a place of indifference and neglect. Hunger was his constant companion, a gnawing emptiness that never truly subsided.
As the day wore on, Kun wandered the streets, his small body a fragile silhouette against the urban landscape. People hurried past, their eyes fixed on their own worlds. He was invisible, a shadow in their bustling lives. He longed for a touch of kindness, a warm meal, a safe place to sleep. But the city offered little in the way of compassion.
As the sun began its descent, casting long, mournful shadows, Kun found a sheltered spot beneath a discarded cardboard box. The city’s cacophony faded, replaced by the quietude of the night. He curled up, his small body trembling. It was his birthday, a day marked by loneliness and despair. There were no presents, no birthday songs, no loving pats. Just the harsh reality of his existence.
He dreamed of a home, a warm bed, and the unconditional love of a family. But when he woke, the cold, unforgiving world would be waiting. His second birthday was a stark reminder of the life he’d been dealt, a life devoid of joy, love, and security.
