My Short Stories. The silent Streets.

The world had grown quiet. Not the kind of quiet that brings peace, but a hollow silence that pressed down on everything. There were no barks echoing from backyards, no cats curled in windowsills watching the world with lazy eyes, no birdsong greeting the morning. Streets once filled with the rhythm of paws and playful yips now felt empty, as if something essential had been erased.

Children grew up without companions to share their secrets with. No loyal dogs to wait by the door after school, no kittens to curl against them when they cried. Even grown-ups felt the absence in ways they couldn’t quite name. Loneliness lingered in the air, sharp and unspoken. Without pets, people only had each other, and somehow, it wasn’t enough.

Susan was old enough to remember. She often told the neighbourhood kids stories about the golden retriever she had as a child, about how his tail wagged so hard it rattled the furniture. They would listen with wide eyes, trying to imagine creatures so loyal, so full of love. But imagination could only do so much.

One evening, Susan stood at her window, staring at the still, grey street. “We lost more than animals,” she whispered to herself. “We lost joy in its purest form.” And in that silence, she realised what everyone already knew deep down: a world without pets wasn’t just quieter—it was lonelier, emptier, and far less human.

Imagine a World without Pets?