This story is based on a dream I had about a little boy named Blaise.
It was a normal day. Blaise and his mother took a walk through town. They passed towering buildings, hot dog stands, professional-looking people, and a muffin cafe, Eric McCall's Muffins to be in fact. Blaise smelt the savory aroma of spices and muffins. He stopped abruptly, placed his hands on the glass, and stared at the delicious muffins. His mother stopped and went to her son.
He stared at his mother, his dark eyes pleaded with hers. "Wants that, Momma," he said.
She knelt beside him and smiled as gently as she could without crying. "Momma," she started, "can't afford that right now, but I promise I will get you one." His head dropped as he cried silently. She lifted his head and said, "Hey, pick a muffin and I wwill do my utmost to get it for you."
He wiped his tears and brightened immediately. He turned back and pick a double chocolate chip muffin with M&Ms atop it. She smiled, making a mental image of the muffin. She hugged him, took his had and walked off.
From a distance, a parking lot security guard saw what unfolded between the mother and child. He felt deeply moved to do something for them. So, he went to the muffing cafe and bought the muffin for the little boy. Then he waited for the mother to return.
Minutes later, the mother came rushing through the cafe doors. She talked to the clerk and told him she wanted a muffin for her baby boy. She pointed in the direction of the muffin racks in the window. The clerk shook his head and told her that someone had already bought the muffin she wanted. Without another word she walked out having a heavy weight on her chest.
The security guard walked out and followed her. He turned the corner and heard her sobbing. He approched her and accidently scared her. He generously told her what he heard and then gave her the muffin.
Filled with mirth, she hugged him tightly. "Thank you so much. You're so kind." Then she walked off.
As the security guard turned the corner, he heard the hard slammingof tires as well as the loud gasps of people. He rushed over to what was going on. There he found the little boy's mother in the street, her body in a distorted position. The security guard froze, not knowing what to do. He called for an ambulance, but he knew it was too late for her. She was so pale and lifeless.
Meanwhile, little Blaise just awoke from his nap. Rubbing his eyes, he walked out of the long play tunnel. He glanced around and didn't find his mother. He sat down at the mouth of the tunnel and waited. His little tummy bagan to rumble. He sat and waited and waited until the sunset. He knew that if he cried really loud she would come to his aide. So he cried and cried. And cried some more. Still his mother didn't come to his side. He crawled back into the tunnel and started to fall asleep. But a strange voice drew him out of his sleepiness.
"Momma," he cried. "Momma! Momma!"
But the voice wasn't his mother's voice. It was of a man. Some stranger who knew his name.
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