Asking Eyes, Giving Heart

On a hot afternoon on the beach, a man lounged under the umbrella of a street food stall. He wore flip-flops and dark trousers, enjoying a glass of young coconut ice while gazing out at the sea. Beneath the orange plastic chair he was sitting on, a small black cat with striking green eyes emerged from the shadows.

The cat seemed curious, approaching with slow, expectant steps. Its nose sniffed the air, perhaps smelling the aroma of grilled fish from a nearby stall. It stopped right in front of the man, staring intently with its round, shining eyes, as if to say, Can I join in the meal?

The man smiled slightly, then dropped a small piece of fish to the ground. The cat nimbly snatched it up, then looked again, begging for more. The surrounding parked vehicles and buildings indicated that the beach was quite busy, but this small moment between the man and the cat felt so serene and private.

That day, the little cat received not only food, but also a little affection from a kind stranger. Perhaps, from then on, every afternoon it returned to that spot, waiting for a simple, meaningful encounter.