I can’t see, my mother said I look very beautiful. Today is my birthday but I still haven’t received any wishes

Mine lived in a world of shadows. Born blind, he had never seen the sunlight, the vibrant colors of the world, or the faces of those around him. His world was a tapestry woven from sounds, scents, and touch. And in the center of this sensory universe was his mother, a warm, comforting presence who painted vivid pictures with her words.

She would describe the world to him, the blue sky, the green grass, the colorful flowers. She would tell him about the sun, a golden ball that warmed the earth, and the moon, a silver disc that watched over them at night. She would describe herself, with her soft brown fur, her kind eyes, and her wagging tail.

Today was Mine’s  birthday. A day that should have been filled with celebration, with the sound of laughter and the feel of gentle pats. But there was silence, an oppressive quiet that hung heavy in the air. His mother was unusually quiet, her movements slow and deliberate.

Mine waited for the usual flurry of excitement, the sound of toys being unwrapped, the smell of delicious treats. But nothing came. He whined softly, his voice filled with confusion. Where were the happy voices, the cheerful songs, the joyous chaos that usually marked a birthday?

As the day wore on, a sense of loneliness crept into Mine’s heart. He missed the warmth of his mother’s body, the comforting rhythm of her heartbeat. He longed for the sound of her laughter, the feel of her gentle hands. In the darkness of his world, her voice had been his only light, his only connection to the outside world.

Night fell, and the house was filled with an eerie silence. Mine curled up at his mother’s feet, seeking the warmth of her body. He was just a puppy, blind and alone, longing for the love and affection that every creature craves.

Another day had passed, another birthday marked by solitude. Mine was a prisoner of his own body, a soul yearning for the light of the world. But in the darkness of his existence, he held onto the memories of his mother’s words, a flickering flame in the cold night of his soul.

He would continue to live in the world she had described, a world filled with color, warmth, and love. And perhaps, one day, he would find his own way to bring light into his dark world.