There was an explosion from next door.
It had been a perfectly normal day. Clive and his parents had just returned from a walk when suddenly several loud crashes could be heard from next door. What came next sounded like a machine creaking and groaning – albeit reluctantly – to life.
Then there was a loud scream, and the last thing Clive remembered was his parents running towards him and throwing themselves on him.
A small boy crouched in an alleyway, ignoring the whispers and stares of the people walking by.
"What's that boy doing there? It's not safe…."
"Is he a beggar? His clothes look decent, though…."
"His eyes…. Look at his eyes. It's the expression of a world-weary adult." This last was spoken by an old lady with a rather large and obtrusive nose.
Clive listened to all the mutterings, but they may as well have been the wind, because they didn't stay in his head. He continued staring listlessly at the opposite wall, hoping that maybe it'd open up and suck him in. His clothes smelled like flowers.
Maybe I shouldn't've run away from the funeral… he thought glumly. But….. how can I face Mom and Dad, when it's my fault they died? He still remembered how it felt when a wave of scorching heat seemed to trap and press on him, and he would've been charred to death if it hadn't been for his parents' bodies shielding him from the shock of the explosion.
Black. Everything had turned black at that point, including his Mom and Dad's skin.
Clive picked up a pebble and almost threw it at the wall when a shadow fell over him. Looking up, he saw the biggest nose he had ever seen, and the kindest smile. The pebble bounced off the old lady's shoe.
"What are you doing here, little boy?" The old lady bent down.
Clive looked at the person-mountain in front of him, and curled up even more tightly.
"You poor dear, you must be all alone." the lady picked up the boy and cooed at him. "Where are your parents? Are you lost?"
"…."
"You remind me of a little dove." she smiled. "But you're more of a lion, aren't you? It must take a lot of courage to be out here by yourself and not cry. What's your name?"
"My…. my…. my name is…." Clive began to cry, but he was crying so hard, it sounded more like "ma…. ma….."
Constance looked surprised, before wrapping him in a tight hug. "Of course I'll be your mama, if that's what you like."