She lay on the ground like she had already been forgotten. Her body barely moved as the wind passed over her skin. What should have …

The ground felt colder than it looked. Cold seeped through her thin body and would not let go. She lay still, curled tight, trying to …

I remember the cold first. It crawled under my fur and stayed there. The ground pressed hard against my thin body. I did not know …

The dog wakes up before the sun. Cold air clings to his thin body like it belongs there. He does not remember when warmth last …

The yard felt smaller each day. The chain was always tight around my neck. It did not matter where I stood. Cold ground pressed into …

Irma remembers the smell before anything else. Rotting food. Hot plastic. Fear that had no name yet. She was only four weeks old, small enough …

He did not have a name then. He was just a body on the street. A tired shape curled near the curb. Dust clung to …

She did not know what a container was, only that it was dark and smelled like fear. The metal walls were cold, and the floor …

Junie did not wake up that morning knowing her name. She only knew pain, cold air, and a body that felt too tired to move. …

He lay still on the side of the road, feeling the world spin around him. The ground was cold and rough, and every breath hurt …