On that day, the rain was still raining, and the alley was spilled like ink. Suddenly, a flowery little cat jumped on the balcony and his eyes were like stars. The scene looks ordinary, but there is something wrong — as if it knew that it was stepping on the edge of a cliff, and the next second it could fall into a abyss.
This cat, not a good pet, is more like a little warrior in the mud. It climbs from the corner of the wall, perhaps just to find a warm corner or to feed itself, but who can think of the dangers that lie behind this “safe” world?
I can't help but think of every time I see these stray animals: Are they struggling to survive, or are they gambling with the world? That moment, it was like time was still. When the man ran through with a broom, his face was so complex. On the one hand, long-suffering fatigue and anger; on the other hand, there is an inexplicable anxiety. He may not have thought of harm at all, but of a release from stress that just kicked an innocent little life to the ground.
Maybe he thinks it's his responsibility that the cat broke into the house? But I always think he's more of a charade, projecting his anxiety into a tiny little creature. Within seconds, the cat became a victim of death.
And when someone stands next to the crowd watching the show, there's no one to say anything. Some even show a kind of apathy -- "We can't control wild dogs and wild cats."
You know what?
It's colder than ice. There was an attempt to understand the mind of the viewers, but the more you look at them, the more you look at them: Are we all numb?
In cities, everyone is a walking iron shell, wrapped in so-called rationality, while forgetting the most basic of humanity.
Sometimes, I think, "Is this a distortion of social values?"
Or are we used to using the law and the rules to hide the retardation?
In fact, this is not an isolated event, but a mirror that has forced us to face: between humans and animals, that line is becoming increasingly blurred and even close to breaking.
In the context of rapid urbanization, we have learned how to avoid responsibility, push the weak away, and then say "care" in our mouths.
But in fact, most good people are as vulnerable as foam. If you think about it, you can find some interesting data.
For example, studies have shown that the number of homeless animals in some major cities is increasing year by year and is inextricably linked to changing attitudes towards them.
In the past, most people used to have pets in the form of family members, and now more so with a sense of ease and even rejection.
This alienation not only affects our hearts, but is also directly reflected in every similar incident — a small, neglected life that has never been truly respected.
In a modern, fast-paced and stressful environment, an adult can easily become a mechanical device that transfers all anxiety to the most vulnerable.
As a result, a tragedy that could have been quelled and amplified into tragedy.
And bystanders, it's as if they're numb.
And he was afraid to move, lest he should be drawn into it, and lest he should be targeted.
So they chose to stand idly by and block the inner part of the room with indifference, which could leave a light of goodwill.
That is also why many tragedies, which give rise to brief trances, quickly lead to calm — after all, “I am neither a victim nor a responsible person”.
But we really can't go on like this.
If there is something missing in society, it must be true and common sense.
Moreover, it is important to understand the delicate and important gap between caring and charity.
Every time I see an animal rescue story in the news, I wonder: Why is good always so strong to remember?
Is it only when the blood and flesh are blurred that we are willing to help?
The future may be full of uncertainty, but I believe that change begins at a small scale.
It is not necessary for everyone to be a saint, but at least not to destroy everything alive in a cold word.
When you walk through the corner and see the skinny little dog crumbling there, will you stop and ask, "Do you need help?"
Or just a word of good faith would be enough to rekindle hope.
Of course, it's easy to say, it's hard to do.
But who knows, maybe the next time you pick up a garbage bag, you bring some of the rest of it, or you tap your friends around and say, "Don't forget, be patient."
When will this day come?
No one can predict, but the only thing that can be sure is that, whether it's cloudy or clear, there's always something to look forward to in this world, something to hide in, just waiting for us to dig, never to turn tragedy into an old-fashioned dish, and then the warmth spreads slowly... and if you wake up tomorrow, you can still be a little childish and pure, then this day is not in vain.