Kuto’s life no. 696

Kuto woke up to the sound of birds chirping. The sun was just peeking over the horizon, casting a warm glow over the small Angola village he called home. He yawned and stretched, before getting out of bed and walking over to the window.

The view outside was beautiful, as always. The thatched roofs of the huts in his village were bathed in golden light, and he could see children running around and playing games. Kuto smiled softly to himself, despite the sadness that always lingered in his heart.

It wasn't fair, he thought bitterly as he watched a group of boys kicking a ball around. It wasn't fair that he had been born into a life of poverty and misery, while others seemed to have everything handed to them on a silver platter. It wasn't fair that his parents had died when he was just a child, leaving him all alone in this cruel world...

But there was nothing Kuto could do about it except try to make the best of what little life had given him. And so even though every day was filled with melancholy, he tried not to let it get him down too much. He knew that dwelling on things like this would only make him feel worse in the long run...