The street was coated in white, and a boy stared on into infinity. An expression of joy was plastered on his face, wide-eyed and hopeful, his nose a maraschino cherry sticking straight up in the mound of snow slowly building on his face. He didn’t seem to understand that breathing out all of that hot air melted the snowflakes before they reached his waiting mouth, nor did he really seem to care.

The only ones who cared were those who watched him from the sidewalks. Hiding under umbrellas, and sheltering their children from the strange boy in the dirty rags. They didn’t know whether they were scared because he had found a genuine smile in the face of all he lacked, or whether they were simply jealous. They hated the boy, and he didn’t know, and that made them angrier.

He remained motionless, the look of pure joy appeared to be the only expression he was capable of. In the blistering cold, the bone chilling wind, and the flurry of snow, he was their hero.