After the Divorce, I Lived Like a Wild Dog

A divorce agreement tore up half of my life's stability. The moment I was pushed out of the besieged city, I became a wild dog in the eyes of others - wandering around in the folds of the city with no place to go, no dignity. Living three meals a day, living without a fixed place, hearing enough gossip, enduring the late night collapse, all the tenderness has been worn away by life, leaving only a prickly body and a stubbornness that refuses to bow. The leaky rental house, the cold instant noodles, and the pain I endured alone were all footnotes to my embarrassment. But wild dogs also have their own way of living, gritting their teeth and scraping for life in the mud, slowly gaining a foothold amidst the contempt of others. This is not a feast of counterattack, but a divorced woman, throwing away all labels, living like a wild dog, biting her life, and earning back her own little piece of human fireworks.