in a dark alley between two shops you sit huddled there in the cold, where everyone spends Christmas Eve in front of a warm fireplace and delicious food, you are here selling your unsold matches. until a heterochromic man comes to you and sits beside you, he looks messy with the smell of alcohol.

"little girl, can I buy your match?" asked Oliver, taking out his cigarette and pulling out some bills. he is an adult.