Cat and City

The trash can opened its hungry mouth in the night, and the roar of the automatic compression device made it fall into the sewage. Until a silver-gray fish flashed through a garbage bag in the back alley of the restaurant, lighting up the fire in its pupils. But the boy's wooden stick, the fangs of the three wild cats, and the black waves splashed by the sports car turned this foraging into a bloody battle. It used its canine teeth to tear open the fish body and a way out, but when the electric car hit it, it watched half of the fish tail sink into the darkness. At dawn, Old Huang crawled out from the holly bush, covered in blood and mud. In the shadows of the street corner, the figures of the mother cat and her cubs were like anchors, waiting for the cat to approach, dragging its broken-bone body. There was no fish, only half a piece of steamed bun dropped by the sanitation aunt rolled to the ground.