The air is damp with humidity, a sign that the sky is about to cry. This is something my mom did continually, the last time I saw her. Cry. A lot. She brought me here and left me in this field. I waited, thinking, pleading that she’d return. I spent a week here, all alone. Hunger befriended me. It wouldn’t leave. An unwanted companion… like me. Then, I smelt that intoxicating aroma... it wafted over from those kids on their wheeled contraptions, chomping down on their juicy cheeseburgers. The girl spotted me first. Stunned, I rolled over. She giggled and rubbed my empty belly. I've been a part of her family ever since.