I am a street cat. Before the war, I was over twelve pounds. Now I’ve lost weight and weigh under ten. I know this—the war at least—because I witnessed a man triggering a landmine and being killed at a spot I’d walked by. It was a mess. No appropriate funeral could be held for him because no one dared to dig in this area, not even walk. An anti-personnel landmine could be triggered by a human child who is bigger than a starving cat, not to mention any adult.

I suppose my constant hunger has saved my life. It’s no wonder even after the army withdrew, no villagers came back to their homes. The landmines prevented their return.

In the twilight, I wandered through the streets, hoping to find some food left by troops once-stationed. With caution, I treaded softly across the broken terrain, relying my senses to guide me through the path.

The place was completely devoid of life. If there was food, it must have gone bad by now. In despair, I decided to find a shed and take a nap. After all, I was so tired. 

By the time I woke up, it was dawn. In the morning breeze, I discovered some berries amidst the weeds by the shed. Immediately, I ate them all like a rat. They were sour but juicy, and they restored my energy to a certain degree. 

If there were berries, there might be some other fruits around. I looked up the trees, attempting to identify some fruit trees among the damaged ones caused by bombings. 

My whiskers twitched. I heard something. Who else could be here? I certainly did not want to encounter another victim of landmines.

Fortunately, it was a bird—a bullfinch. Usually, I would play with birds: chasing, capturing, and torturing them for fun. But, today I wasn’t in that mood, and I knew, as it was easy to observe an orange bird, following it could lead me to fruit trees or flowers with honey. 

The entire place is now mine—no one but myself. Somehow I find solace in being away from human presence: perpetrators or victims. It is a gratifying feeling to have a space that is exclusively mine, and it is equally rewarding to have decent companions, particularly those who dwell in the sky rather than on land and possess the ability to find sustenance.

I imagine this place will remain uninhabited for the next few decades, as landmines can remain active for up to fifty years, surpassing the lifespan of many buildings. Even after the war has ended and the troops have demobilized, even after the people who once called this place home may have perished, the haunting danger of landmines lingers. I find a hollow, climb and curl into the space. Despite being buried underground, the desolation they have caused will be an enduring testament to human cruelty.