The moment the baby monkey woke up, the world felt wrong. Her eyes barely opened, still heavy with sleep, but her tiny stomach was already screaming. Hunger hit her all at once. Before she could even stretch, a loud cry burst from her throat, sharp and desperate, echoing through the room.
She cried for her mom with all the strength her little body had. Her arms waved wildly, legs kicking the bed as if trying to run toward comfort. The milk she dreamed about was not there yet, and waiting felt unbearable. Her cries grew louder, turning into angry sobs mixed with panic. She had just woken up, and already she felt empty.
Tears rolled down her cheeks as she lifted her head again and again, searching for her mom. Every second without milk made her more upset. Her mouth opened wide, calling, begging, demanding. This was not a gentle morning cry. This was a hungry baby fighting discomfort the only way she knew how.
Mom hurried in, hearing the urgency in that tiny voice. The moment the baby saw her, the crying intensified, as if saying, “Why did you take so long?” She reached out, trembling, her body shaking with impatience. Hunger had taken over all control.
When the milk finally touched her lips, she cried once more, then latched on desperately. Her hands gripped tightly, afraid the bottle might disappear again. She drank fast, breathless, milk spilling slightly as relief slowly replaced distress.
With every swallow, her body softened. The loud cries faded into small sounds. Her eyelids drooped, anger melting into comfort. Soon, only quiet drinking filled the room.
After finishing, she rested against mom, exhausted. The storm was over. Hunger had turned her morning into tears, but love and milk made everything right again.
