I was walking straight home, like the other good girls do.

The blond lowered his bag onto the hard ground as he slowly unravelled himself from his grey coat.

Without a word, he draped the thick material over the stranger’s fragile body.

The sidewalk angel merely curled tightly into the warmth of the coat, eyes gently closing, his thick tear-stained lashes prominent against his high, gaunt cheekbones and the chalk-dusted colouring of his skin.