This boy

John was on the train on his way back home. He had just finished supper with some of his good friends, and he was feeling warm and cosy on the inside after that well spent time with his friends, even though the carriage was empty and cold.

Or so he thought. Little did he notice a little boy sitting opposite him, quietly and in fact rather calmly eventhough he too, was all by himself at such a time.

"Are you real at all young boy?" asked John, as he thought he was seeing things.

The little boy ran across towards him, and jumped onto his lap.

John was taken aback. If he was real, then what was he be doing on the train all by himself at such a time?

"Hey kid, where's your mum?" John asked curiously. The little boy did not answer but pointed upwards, looking longingly at the ceiling of the carriage; or rather, looking through it, towards the dark and sinister sky. Beyond that, the heavens.

"Oh I'm sorry, I didn't know...then where's your dad?" John asked again. Again, the little boy did not answer, but pointed towards the floor of the carriage, a sparkling tear rolling down his rosy and chubby cheek.

John instinctively gave the little boy a tight hug, one of compassion and pity, and poured into the sad little boy all the love he could offer. This hug surpassed any other hug he had given to any other person, even including his wife.

After that intense moment, John finally pulled back and looked into the little boy's eyes. He saw through those innocent eyes a depressed soul, tormented and totured. Yet, his appearance contradicted what was actually deep in him.

Then, the little boy pointed to his stomache. John nodded, treating the little boy as if it was his child. They got off the train together, the little boy on John's broad shoulders, and both of them glided down the escalator gleefully.