In one life, he lived outside the barred gates of the rich, and his only friends were the tongues of stray dogs offering false comfort. In one life, it was all he could do to stay alive for one more day, one more hour. His dream was to live beneath the dining tables of the rich, knowing that every scrap that fell down came from plates fit for a king.
There’s a gap between some humans that only death or love can bridge, and this was one of them. But he continues to think of better things, because it’s the only way he’ll know he’s still in one life and not the next.