Tears, they surged from her eyes disbanding the dirt from her fear frozen cheeks. I could see her thoughts through her infant who had a haunting face of abandonment and the strawberry blemish on the young mother’s sandpapered skin resembling the hand of a once loved one. Tears, they saturated my heart. Salty bitterness had eventually streamed down to my frosted fingertips I used to carry my delectable nourishments that we would’ve soon snacked upon. As I passed, they peered at the broiling haziness ascending from the bags they perceived as nothing more than a miracle. I paused for a moment and looked. The mother hauled me in with eyes like a burning forest. With a cinder block in my chest, I got closer, dropped the bags, and walked off. The cinder block vanished and so did the tears.