The scorching sun of New York mercilessly beat down on Fifth Avenue, where Ethan, a 28-year-old young man with dishevelled hair and tattered clothes, sat on the sidewalk. His blue eyes, once vibrant, were now dull from exhaustion and hunger. The prominent ribs beneath his torn shirt revealed weeks of scarce food. Ethan watched the frantic hustle of people, feeling invisible in the midst of the crowd.
His stomach growled painfully, reminding him that he hadn’t eaten in more than two days. Just one more day, Ethan, you can do it. Someone will notice you today, he murmured to himself, trying to keep his hope alive.
Who am I kidding? No one looks twice at a beggar, he thought, his inner voice laden with bitterness. The hours dragged on slowly, and Ethan fought the temptation to rummage through nearby trash cans in search of leftover food. He had promised himself he wouldn’t sink to that level, but hunger was an unforgiving adversary.
