Under the bridge, the shadow of a person is visible.

As I approach, the figure becomes clearer. It is a boy. He is wearing a military uniform that looks like it was stolen from somewhere. It is tattered. His face and hair are equally filthy. He isn't wearing any shoes.

Just as I am wondering if he is a street urchin, he speaks to me first.

I stand there still, not understanding what he means. Then, he speaks once more.

What I was holding in my hand was a piece of bread.