Luna was a shadow, a silent observer of the world around her. She lived in a small, cramped apartment with an elderly woman who seemed to have forgotten the joy of companionship. The woman fed her, cleaned up after her, but there was a cold distance between them, a silent chasm that Luna couldn’t bridge.
Today was Luna’s birthday. She knew it because Maria, her owner, had a peculiar habit of buying extra food on this day. It was a small acknowledgment, a silent marker of the date, but it was all she had.
As the day wore on, a sense of loneliness crept into Luna’s heart. She watched Maria go about her day, her movements slow and deliberate, her face etched with lines of weariness. There were no signs of celebration, no extra pats, no words of affection.
Luna began to doubt herself. Maybe she wasn’t lovable. Maybe there was something inherently wrong with her. She had tried to be a good dog, to wag her tail enthusiastically, to offer unconditional love. But it seemed to be in vain.
As the sun began its descent, casting long shadows that seemed to magnify her solitude, Luna curled up in her favorite spot, a small patch of sunlight on the worn-out carpet. The apartment was quiet, the only sound the ticking of the old clock on the wall.
She thought about other dogs, the ones she saw on television, the ones that were part of happy families. They had toys, they went for walks, and they received endless love. She wondered what she had done to deserve such a different life.
With a heavy heart, Luna closed her eyes. She dreamt of a world where she was loved, where she was celebrated, where she belonged. But when she woke, the harsh reality of her existence was laid bare.
Another year had passed, another birthday marked with solitude. Luna was just a shadow in a world that had forgotten how to shine.
