I Met a Lonely Little Boy with a Baby in Stroller Buying Clothes on the Flea Market – I Decided to Follow Him

I Met a Lonely Little Boy with a Baby in Stroller Buying Clothes on the Flea Market – I Decided to Follow Him

As Edison walks through a weekend flea market, he sees a young boy with a stroller and a sleeping baby inside. As he follows the boy, he finds them entering a dilapidated house. Unable to stop himself, Edison intervenes, trying to ensure the safety of the boy and the baby while trying to remain objective.

“Look at these vintage globes, sir!” a vendor said, trying to catch my attention. “They’re in great quality! Some of them open at the middle, and you can stash things inside.”

Antique globes on a shelf | Source: Midjourney

Antique globes on a shelf | Source: Midjourney

I laughed at the man, wondering what would fit into the tiny space inside these objects.

It was just another typical Saturday morning, and I was meandering through the flea market, searching for hidden treasures and eating my way through a bagel.

A person holding a bagel sandwich | Source: Midjourney

A person holding a bagel sandwich | Source: Midjourney

“No,” I said, brushing the man off. “I’m good, thank you!”

I made my way through the antique wooden boxes next, taking photos of them for my mother, but something unusual caught my eye.

A young boy, no more than twelve or thirteen, dressed in tattered clothes, was buying baby clothes from one of the stalls. Next to him was a stroller with a baby sleeping peacefully.

“Where are your parents?” I asked, approaching him.

A sleeping baby in a stroller | Source: Midjourney

A sleeping baby in a stroller | Source: Midjourney

The boy froze, eyes wide with fear. Suddenly, he snatched my phone and hurled it into the crowd.

I ran to retrieve it; as a lawyer, my phone was full of confidential information, and I couldn’t afford for anyone to get to it.

But the moment I turned away, the boy was already slipping away through the crowd, pushing the stroller with force.

“Hey! Wait!” I shouted, but he was off.

A boy running away | Source: Midjourney

A boy running away | Source: Midjourney

“He’s been coming here often,” the old woman selling the used baby clothes said. “He always comes from that direction. Just follow the path, and you should find him. Help them. The baby is too young to be on the street.”

“What?” I asked her, wanting to hear more, but she was already busy with people browsing her stall.

I decided to follow him from a distance. Even though he had taken off, I figured I could follow the path as the woman said.

For about ten minutes, I tailed the boy through winding streets until he reached a dilapidated abandoned house.

A dilapidated and abandoned house | Source: Midjourney

A dilapidated and abandoned house | Source: Midjourney

“What is going on?” I muttered under my breath.

The place was a wreck, with signs of an old fire and general neglect that had taken over the house.

I watched through the window as the boy wheeled the stroller into the living room, and struggled to light a fire in a coal pot in the middle of the room.

My eyes scanned the room, trying to find an adult. Finally, I saw a man lying on the floor.

That was it.

“What’s going on here?” I demanded, stepping inside.

A man sleeping on the floor | Source: Midjourney

A man sleeping on the floor | Source: Midjourney

The boy jumped, knocking over the thin long metal pole he used to stoke the fire. The man stirred awake, jolted by my voice.

“Are you their father?” I continued. “Why are they living like this? Are you hurt? I’m a lawyer, sir. I can have you stripped of your parental rights. This isn’t an environment for children!”

“Please, don’t call the police or social services,” the man pleaded, sitting up with difficulty. “I can explain.”

“Explain? This is child neglect!” I shot back.

A man holding his face | Source: Midjourney

A man holding his face | Source: Midjourney

“These kids aren’t mine,” he said, nodding to the boy. “This is Dylan, and the baby is Simon. Their parents abandoned them weeks ago, and somehow Dylan ended up finding this house.”

“And you’ve been living here?” I asked.

The man nodded.

A close-up of a man with a beard | Source: Pexels

A close-up of a man with a beard | Source: Pexels

“My name is Joe,” he said. “I’ve been here for a few months. I lost my job working as a cleaner in a supermarket. There was a robbery, and the person behind it blamed me. There wasn’t any way to prove my innocence, so I was sent packing. The boys have been with me since they arrived.”

“I’m scared that Simon and I will be separated,” Dylan said. “So, Joe has been caring for us.”

A young boy | Source: Midjourney

A young boy | Source: Midjourney

“But you cannot live like this,” I said. “You need proper food and care, and a place to sleep. Simon needs more than that. What, he’s a year old? Younger? He cannot survive like this.”

Joe sighed.

“Look, man. I grew up in shelters and foster homes. My childhood was a nightmare. Given the choice, I’d pick these living conditions any day. That’s why I didn’t call social services or try to take these kids in.”

I glanced at Dylan, who was listening intently, holding Simon protectively.

A close-up of a little boy | Source: Midjourney

A close-up of a little boy | Source: Midjourney

“And you’re okay with this? There’s no heat in here, and where does the baby sleep? In the stroller?” I asked the boy.

He nodded slowly, a sad smile forming on his face.

“Better than foster care,” he whispered.

“Joe, what exactly do you do to help them?” I asked, softening my tone and trying to fully grasp the situation.

“I share my food, any money I get from odd jobs, and I teach Dylan. He’s a smart boy. We find books at the library or sometimes people give us books at the flea market,” Joe replied.

A man eating a sandwich | Source: Pexels

A man eating a sandwich | Source: Pexels

But despite their reasoning, I couldn’t shake the feeling that this was wrong. These boys needed proper care. They needed nutritious food, and I couldn’t tell what state the baby was in.

“I’m going to look around, okay, Joe?” I asked, moving away from the living room.

In the next room, I dialed the police.

They arrived quickly, social services tagging along. The children were taken away, down the hallway of the dilapidated house. Dylan’s eyes were filled with betrayal.

A man holding his head | Source: Midjourney

A man holding his head | Source: Midjourney

“I should have broken your phone,” he said.

“This is for the best,” I said, trying to make myself believe it too.

About two weeks later, my secretary buzzed in.

“Edison,” she said. “There’s a man named Joe here to see you.”

I stepped into the hallway, and there was Joe, looking cleaner and more determined than ever.

A man sitting at his desk | Source: Pexels

A man sitting at his desk | Source: Pexels

“I want to visit the boys, sir,” he said. “I tried, but they won’t let me because I’m homeless. I want to change my life. I’ve found a job, cleaning the library by day and cleaning at the gas station by night.”

I was taken aback.

“I want to become their guardian. With the right help, I’ll be able to do that.”

“You’re serious about this?” I asked.

A mop and a bucket in a library | Source: Midjourney

A mop and a bucket in a library | Source: Midjourney

“I am,” he said. “I’ve grown to love them. It’s been horrible without them lately. The silence has been suffocating in the old house.”

I had to admit that I was moved. I didn’t expect Joe to be so caring toward the boys, especially given the circumstances.

“Why don’t you work for me?” I asked him. “We need a cleaner in the office and someone to take over maintenance here. Would you be interested? The hours will be normal, and the wages will be basic but constant.”

A person cleaning | Source: Unsplash

A person cleaning | Source: Unsplash

Joe nodded, clearly overwhelmed.

In the next few weeks, Joe proved his dedication. He devoured the law textbooks that I gave him and worked tirelessly.

With my help, he managed to meet the boys a few times, assuring Dylan that he would always come back.

“I’m just getting my life together, my boy,” he told Dylan when Joe and I went for a supervised visit, taking new clothes and school textbooks for Dylan.

A pile of clothing | Source: Midjourney

A pile of clothing | Source: Midjourney

“And you’ll come back?” Dylan asked.

Joe nodded.

Months later, Joe was finally back on his feet. He managed to get all his documents in order and enrolled in college.

“I’ll pay for it,” I told him. “You just focus on juggling work and college and giving the boys a home. When this is over, we’ll get Dylan and Simon back where they belong.”

Now, Joe is on his way through college, with hopes of attending law school. He rents a little apartment and is fighting to become the boys’ guardian.

A cozy little apartment | Source: Midjourney

A cozy little apartment | Source: Midjourney

What would you have done?

I Caught My Ex-MIL Stealing My Shower Cabin and Ripping off Wallpaper Her ‘Son Had Glued’

After a problematic marriage, Kelly and Peter get divorced. But her ex-mother-in-law just doesn’t want to let things go. From ripping off wallpaper to stealing an entire shower cabin, Lorraine just keeps testing Kelly’s patience until reality hits, and Lorraine learns her own lesson.

I’m Kelly, and I’ve been divorced from my ex-husband, Peter, for about six months now. We were married for ten years, and while the marriage wasn’t perfect, it was my life.

Until I found out about his affair.

That was the last straw, and everything came crashing down. The divorce was messy and painful, and to top it off, I had to deal with his mother, Lorraine, who was a nightmare in human form.

A woman sitting on a couch | Source: Midjourney

A woman sitting on a couch | Source: Midjourney

Lorraine never liked me. Even when we were married, she made it perfectly clear that I wasn’t good enough for her son.

“I’m just being honest with you, Kelly. Peter is used to a certain way of life since being with me. I’m his mother, and I taught him that perfection is the only option here. You’re… I mean. Let’s face it, doll. You’re far from perfect.”

When Peter and I split up, she went out of her way to help him get as much as he could from me. Money, property, some of my wedding jewelry, you name it. If it was valuable, she made sure that I lost it.

A woman's jewelry box | Source: Midjourney

A woman’s jewelry box | Source: Midjourney

I kept telling myself that once the divorce was over and Peter moved out, I’d finally have peace.

But the peace didn’t last.

One day, I came home from work early because I had a headache from staring at my laptop all day, and I was exhausted, ready to collapse, only to stop dead in my tracks in the hallway outside my apartment.

Sitting there, in the common corridor, was my shower cabin. It had a big, bold “Peter’s Property” sticker plastered across it as if I might somehow forget who it belonged to. My stomach sank.

A woman standing in the doorway | Source: Midjourney

A woman standing in the doorway | Source: Midjourney

What the hell was going on?

When I stepped into my apartment, I was hit by a cloud of dust and ripped wallpaper. The walls were half-bare, and I heard a ripping sound coming from down the hallway. Turning the corner, I came face-to-face with Lorraine, my ex-mother-in-law, tearing the wallpaper right off my walls.

She muttered under her breath about how she didn’t want to leave any “traces” of Peter’s work.

A pile of ripped wallpaper | Source: Midjourney

A pile of ripped wallpaper | Source: Midjourney

“What the hell, Lorraine?” I demanded, pushing my way into the kitchen, the only place untouched by her hands.

Lorraine looked up at me, not even flinching.

“This is all his work,” she said with that haughty tone she’d perfected over the years. “He put up this wallpaper, so it’s his to take down. And the shower cabin, it’s coming with us too. We’re not leaving anything for you.”

An angry older woman | Source: Midjourney

An angry older woman | Source: Midjourney

I was stunned. How low could they go? I’d already been drained emotionally by the divorce, and now this?

I felt helpless, watching her tear apart my home, muttering the whole time about how Peter “wasn’t leaving a single thing behind” for me. She was ripping wallpaper, unplugging light fixtures, and muttering about every single piece of the apartment that Peter had once touched.

“Lorraine,” I said. “Please, just stop. This is unfair…”

An upset woman | Source: Midjourney

An upset woman | Source: Midjourney

But she didn’t even look at me. She just kept on, pulling down wallpaper and yanking at the shower frame. I felt a familiar lump rising in my throat. I was tired, too tired to fight anymore, so I just slumped onto the couch feeling numb and defeated as I watched her continue her destruction.

The next day, just when I thought things couldn’t get any worse, Lorraine stormed back into my apartment. This time, though, she wasn’t there to take anything; she was there for help.

An upset older woman | Source: Midjourney

An upset older woman | Source: Midjourney

“Kelly,” she cried, grabbing my arm with a desperation I’d never seen in her before. “You have to help me. Please. I’ll give you anything. Just… please help him.”

I blinked at her, confused.

“Help who? What are you talking about?”

“Peter!” she wailed, her voice breaking. “He’s in trouble. I don’t care what it takes. Please, you have to save him.”

A crying older woman | Source: Midjourney

A crying older woman | Source: Midjourney

I pulled my arm free.

“Lorraine, what are you talking about?”

She looked at me, her eyes wide and pleading.

“Peter had an accident. A really terrible one. He was out drinking, and it was late. It’s really bad, Kelly. He’s hurt. Please, you have to help him.”

A car accident | Source: Midjourney

A car accident | Source: Midjourney

A pang shot through my chest. Peter, the man who had cheated, manipulated, and broken me, now needed my help?

A tiny voice in my head whispered that I should help him, that it was the right thing to do. But then the memories of all he’d done to me resurfaced — all the lies and manipulation.

He’d torn apart my life, and now he was paying the price.

A man in a hospital bed | Source: Midjourney

A man in a hospital bed | Source: Midjourney

Wasn’t that fair? Wasn’t it poetic justice in a way?

I looked back at Lorraine, who was practically on her knees.

“I’m not saving Peter, Lorraine. He made his choices. He’s finally dealing with the consequences of his actions. It was his drinking that made things really unpleasant for us. It brought out the worst in him. And you want me to get involved again?”

A woman sitting on a couch | Source: Midjourney

A woman sitting on a couch | Source: Midjourney

Her face twisted with anger and her mouth set into a tight line.

“You’ll regret this, Kelly,” she hissed. “You have no idea what you’re dealing with.”

I crossed my arms and met her gaze.

“No, Lorraine, I think you’re the one who’ll regret it.”

An angry woman | Source: Midjourney

An angry woman | Source: Midjourney

The days that followed were filled with rumors. I heard bits and pieces about Peter’s accident, about how he’d been drinking, how he was lucky to be alive, apparently. But his recovery was rough. He was in debt, and things were piling up.

I felt a mix of relief and anger. Finally, Peter was facing something that he couldn’t charm his way out of. I decided to go to his place. I mean, I was done with Peter, but I wasn’t heartless. I just wanted to see what he looked like in the aftermath of it all.

“Come in,” he called as I knocked on the front door of Lorraine’s house.

A woman standing on a porch | Source: Midjourney

A woman standing on a porch | Source: Midjourney

At least she wasn’t home. I didn’t want to see the satisfaction on her face. To Lorraine, it would look like I wanted to help, as though I couldn’t help myself and couldn’t stay away from Peter.

“Kelly?” he enthusiastically said when he saw me.

“Peter,” I said, taking in the room.

A man on a couch | Source: Midjourney

A man on a couch | Source: Midjourney

It was a far cry from the strict house that Lorraine usually kept. Instead, there were containers of Chinese food lying around, discarded bottles of water, chocolate wrappers, and dirty mugs. Peter had really taken Lorraine’s house and made it a mess.

“I can’t believe you’re here,” he said, lying on the couch. “I need some help, Kelly. I need my hospital bills to be paid as soon as possible. Can you do it? Please? They’ll take my car!”

“Seriously, Peter?” I asked. “I just came to make sure that you were okay physically. I’m not about to sort your life out. I’m not spending a cent on you.”

Mugs and bottles on a coffee table | Source: Midjourney

Mugs and bottles on a coffee table | Source: Midjourney

“Then why bother to come here?” he demanded.

“I don’t know, but clearly it was a mistake,” I said, turning around and leaving without another word.

Then, about a week later, Lorraine showed up at my door again. She wasn’t the same person who’d stormed in before. Her shoulders were slumped, her eyes tired and haunted. She looked like a woman who’d aged ten years in a matter of days.

A woman standing in a living room | Source: Midjourney

A woman standing in a living room | Source: Midjourney

“Kelly,” she began, her voice barely a whisper. “I know I don’t deserve it, but… but I came to apologize.”

I didn’t say anything. I just put the kettle on and allowed her to keep talking.

“I was wrong about Peter,” she said, tears streaming down her face. “He’s not the man I thought he was. He ruined everything, and he pushed everyone away. I thought I was helping him all these years, but I was only making things worse.”

An upset older woman | Source: Midjourney

An upset older woman | Source: Midjourney

A part of me felt a glimmer of satisfaction seeing her so defeated. But then I noticed the genuine grief in her expression, the regret she could no longer hide.

She wasn’t just devastated about Peter’s actions; she was grieving the son she thought she had. The realization was so clear: he had been just as manipulative with her as he’d been with me. Lorraine had been caught in his web of lies, just like I had.

An upset older woman | Source: Midjourney

An upset older woman | Source: Midjourney

At that moment, something inside me softened. Lorraine wasn’t just the bitter woman who had fought against me during the divorce. She was a mother, broken by the son she’d devoted her life to.

Still, I didn’t really want to allow myself to get back into their lives. So, I invited Lorraine to stay for dinner. At least I could give her a decent meal before she went back to Peter.

Food on a table | Source: Midjourney

Food on a table | Source: Midjourney

Months later, I received a short, handwritten letter from him. It wasn’t an excuse; it was an apology.

Kelly, I’m so sorry for everything. For betraying you, for the pain I caused. I’m working on myself now, trying to figure out who I am without all the lies. I don’t expect forgiveness. I just want you to know that I’m trying.

It was strange reading those words. But I got a sense of closure that I’d thought I’d never get.

A woman reading a letter in a kitchen | Source: Midjourney

A woman reading a letter in a kitchen | Source: Midjourney

What would you have done?

If you’ve enjoyed this story, here’s another one for you |

I Came to My Wedding and Saw My Mom in a Wedding Dress with a Bouquet

Ever since Nicole began planning her wedding, her mother had gotten very involved. When Nicole asks her to take a step back, she does so. But on the big day, her mother shows up in a wedding dress after mysteriously receiving a call instructing her to. Nicole is left fuming when she discovers who has preyed on her mother’s feelings, ensuring she will destroy them.

When Peter and I got engaged, I promised myself that the wedding planning would be smooth and easy.

A man proposing | Source: Pexels

A man proposing | Source: Pexels

Growing up, I wasn’t like the other girls who spent their time daydreaming about their weddings. I just knew that it would eventually happen one day, and I would need cupcakes at my wedding reception.

That was it.

A little girl playing dress up | Source: Pexels

A little girl playing dress up | Source: Pexels

So, I always knew that when it came to the actual event, I would need my mother to guide me.

This work is inspired by real events and people, but it has been fictionalized for creative purposes. Names, characters, and details have been changed to protect privacy and enhance the narrative. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.

The author and publisher make no claims to the accuracy of events or the portrayal of characters and are not liable for any misinterpretation. This story is provided “as is,” and any opinions expressed are those of the characters and do not reflect the views of the author or publisher.

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