Pobby didn’t know what a birthday was. He was just a tiny, shivering creature, his world limited to the confines of a cardboard box. A year had passed since he was cruelly abandoned, a lifetime in the harsh world of the streets.
Today, the day he was cast out into the cold, unforgiving world, was marked by an emptiness that gnawed at his heart. He remembered the warmth of something soft, the comforting rhythm of a heartbeat, but those memories were fading, replaced by the harsh realities of his existence.
Hunger was his constant companion, a relentless ache that never truly subsided. He wandered the streets, his small body a fragile silhouette against the urban landscape. People hurried past, their lives a world away from his. He was invisible, a shadow in their bustling existence.
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. Pobby found a sheltered spot beneath a discarded cardboard box. The cold seeped into his bones, a constant reminder of his vulnerability. He curled up, his small body trembling. It was his first 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. As sleep claimed him, he dreamed of a warm home, a soft bed, and the love of a human family. But when he woke, the cold, unforgiving world would be waiting. His first birthday, a milestone for many, was for him a stark reminder of the cruel hand fate had dealt him.
