He heated his hands against the fire burning in the metal bin in the alley way.
The homeless man sighed. He looked on ahead, seeing the mansion in the distance.
It was going to snow tonight, and the homeless man had gotten his box to sleep in. It was against the wall with newspapers and a blanket.
As he prepared for sleep, he tucked himself in snugly to his blanket, and shivered there as snowflakes began to fall down in light flowing flight.
He held his arms tightly, hugging himself to keep in the warmth.
His heart slowly beat.
He closed his lids tighter, biting his scarred lips and prayed he would make it through the night.
There was a tap.
He slowly opened his worn and weary eyes and looked around.
He saw a man in a white suit standing just outside his box.
"Excuse me, sir?" the man asked, and the homeless man looked at this posh fellow confused.
"Yes?" he said, his tired voice almost pleading to be heard.
"The master is of need of you."
The homeless man looked at the suited fellow and beckoned, "Pardon?"
"Come, come," the butler man in the white suit uttered, "Up with you."
The man slowly got out of the box bed and watched as the butler pointed him to the carriage.
The homeless man slowly got in, and in an instant, the horses nayed and were off.
The butler was sitting on the other side, and asked him.
The homeless man blinked. How did this stranger know his name?
"Yes, sir?" he asked him confused.
"The master has been watching you."
"Me?" Tommy spoke back, afraid, "Why?"
"You've been scavenging the bins, taking the scraps for food."
Tommy began to feel himself sweat.
"I thought no one wanted it...?"
"You did..." the butler replied and Tommy just turned his eyes to the ground, ashamed.
"Yes, I did..."
They arrived at the mansion shortly after.
They got out as the carriage was pulled into the side.
Tommy looked at those white gates, as he slowly saw them open. He stumbled inside. He saw on each side of him, men wearing armour.
He approached the building and the two large doors opened slowly.
He covered his eyes from the bright warmth and light that hit him, and the butler led him to the master's room.
Tommy began to shake and tremble.
"Are you okay?" the butler asked.
"N-no," Tommy stuttered, tears in his eyes, "I have been stealing from this man and I didn't even realize. I'm, I'm a thief!"
"Bring it up with him." the man said and pushed the door opened, ushering him in.
Tommy stumbled into the large living room, a fire ablaze in the distance and looked for the master.
And then, he saw him.
The master was an old man, a white beard on him. He was sitting in a large armchair, and Tommy stepped fearfully forward.
Tommy paused, shaking.
The elderly man had seen him.
"Yes, sir?" he said, falling to his knees and begging for forgiveness. He had tears stream from his eyes.
"Why do you cry?" the elderly master asked.
"I have committed a terrible crime," Tommy whispered, "I stole."
"Why didn't you ask?"
Tommy stiffened, he was afraid to look the master in the eyes, but he did.
"I was afraid you'd reject my begging... you probably have paupers coming to you day after day, begging for food."
"Yes," the master said, "And I do not turn them away."
Tommy's eyes stilled, and he looked at the master.
"Tommy," the elderly man said with a voice of deep fatherly love, "There is many rooms in my house. Do you want to stay here?"
Tommy didn't know how to answer.
"I know you are afraid, Tommy. I know you have been hurt and beaten by this world. Do you want to rest? Do you want to stay in my home?"
"I-I," Tommy began to cry. Tears rolled down his cheeks and he begged, "But why me? What worth am I to you?"
"Because, I don't want to see you in any more pain."
Tommy cried harder, he couldn't bare the kindness. He smiled a broken smile and just said in happiness.
"Yes, please let me stay."
Tommy was under that box, his heart beating slower and slower as the snow built up around him.
Beat... beat... and then it froze.
The homeless man died.
And went home...