They didn’t cry loudly.
They didn’t bark.
They just lay there — three small hearts on one tired mattress, in a world that had forgotten softness.
Once, that mattress belonged to someone’s home.
Now it was the only gentle thing left in a sea of cold ground and broken things.
The white one slept to forget hunger.
The brown one stared ahead, as if waiting for a voice that never came.
The smallest one watched everything… quietly hoping kindness still existed somewhere beyond the noise.
They weren’t asking for much.
Not a palace. Not a promise.
Just warmth. Just safety. Just one hand that wouldn’t leave.
Sometimes love doesn’t disappear.
Sometimes it gets lost… and waits to be found.
And even in a place full of waste,
they chose to stay close — because when the world turns hard,
being together becomes the last soft place.
