In this corner, there is nothing. No bed. No food. No arms to hold him.
Only cold tiles, soaked fur, and a wall that gives no warmth back.
His little body curls into the smallest shape possible, like he’s trying to disappear, like he’s not allowed to take up too much space.
He isn’t asking for much. No miracles.
Just for the rain to stop. Just for someone to pause and say, “Come on. That’s enough. You’re safe now.”
Because this isn’t “just a cat.”
This is a small living soul that’s afraid, that’s trembling—and still waiting.
And sometimes all it takes is a warm towel, a little food, and an open door to change an entire life.
