Snowflakes drift down listlessly, covering the cobbled streets and shingled rooftops. Carriages hurry up and down the slick streets, carrying passengers as eager to be inside as the cabbies and horses themselves. As the snowflakes thicken and the wind begins to blow, the streets are slowly deserted. Empty except for a solitary figure. A thin, patched greatcoat is drawn closer to the thin body as the wind blows snowflakes into his face. Red chapped hands hold the coat closed over a threadbare shirt and trousers. Wandering through the streets as it grows colder and colder, the boy searches for shelter. His eyelids droop as the night progresses, his teeth chatter uncontrollably and his body trembles with cold. The pain that had gripped his small frame is now gone, nothing but an aching numbness remains. Dropping to the ground in a dead-end ally, the boy curls his body together, trying to stay warm. His once-red cheeks are now an icy blue, and he gasps for breath as the cold air freezes his lungs.
His eyes close slowly as his body relaxes. Clenched fingers uncurl and drop down by his side, resting in the snow. A harsh intake of breath, and then a long, slow exhale that brings a cloud of fog from his open mouth.
The snow continues to fall that night and the next, covering his still form.