A rather young lad sat curled up on the side of the road. His back was against the front wall of a large theater and he held his knees to his chest. He stared into the clear night sky full of stars and with every breath, frost floated from his lungs and his whole body shivered. Passersby walked on as if they didn’t notice the boy. He was nineteen at the time, but his frail condition could have fooled anyone into thinking he was a child.
The young man had no one and no place to go. His clothes were simple rags that barely fit and his shoes were made of woven sacks he stole from a bread stand; the bread kept in them was long ago consumed. The boy wanted to ration it out for himself, but his greed got the better of him—he couldn’t help but scarf it all down at once. As the boy sat, teeth cha
