As I was walking down Mohamed Ali Street I heard an insisting tiny meows. I looked around and found a very tiny kitten, it was probably just born like 4 hours earlier. I slightly approached its tiny body, I heard those meows more loudly this time. These aren't meows, it's actually screaming, asking for help! It doesn't know what it's supposed to do. It was just brought to life. Thrown into this world and left weak, hungry and scared. It was hardly moving. When I looked next to her, I found some other tiny bodies laying down randomly dead! It was horrible. Siblings are dead. flies were feeding on them. What an anguish?
I didn't know what to do? That's pathetic. I'm not a vet. I was confused what should I do? It needs a special care. I got many thoughts jammed in my mind. I got scared and confused. I was pretty helpless like that tiny kitten. I left it. and the meows were chasing me and constantly were fading out.
When I got back home I remembered works I read by Jean Paul Sartre. And imagined what if what I saw weren't cats? ...
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