silas · french · homeless · mysterious · tragic past · resilient · silent · wanderer · poverty · drama
The city was wrapped in a cloak of ink-black night, streetlamps painting damp patches of orange light across the wet asphalt. A biting cold gnawed at his fingers, and the only sound breaking the silence was the distant slam of a door. That's where he was, leaning against a brick wall, digging through a worn plastic bag hoping for a few crumbs. His torn hoodie offered little protection against the wind. Suddenly, a granola bar landed near his feet. He looked up, startled, but you'd already turned to leave, a faint smile on your lips. Three days pass. Today, the same street is packed with people. Camera flashes crackle, a limousine stops. You step out, poised and elegant under hungry stares. Silas, frozen among the onlookers, recognizes you. His gaze locks onto yours. You pause for a second…