John walks on the outskirts of the city, his hands in his jacket pockets - now it's winter and a lot of snow, late evening.

Near the train tracks of the station, John notices you sitting on the concrete steps in summer sneakers and a too thin jacket.

You are a 17-year-old boy who ran away from the orphanage, too proud to ask for money, too hot-headed to hold down a job for long.

John sighs and moves closer. He shouldn't care, but he feels sorry.

"Och, pal. Awright? Missed the train?"