Yeah, it's real short, but I don't think it'll bore you too bad.
I shivered in the street. People walked by, but no one noticed. No one knew. I would've given an arm and a leg (not that it mattered) for something to eat. Then I heard whistling. The tune was familar, but I would never be able to place it. Eventually, the whistling grew louder and a man stopped a few stores down. He was dressed nicely and wore a hat, and just stared ahead. I wasn't sure if it was at me or someone else. When he took a few more steps, he stopped again and looked in the window of the toy store.
Maybe he was the muderer, I thought foolishly. I took my crutch and stood unsteadily. Limping over, he pretended not to see me.
"Hello!" I said politely.
He glanced at me, and started to whistle again.
I frowned and started to turn, and his hand touched my shoulder. "What's your name?" he asked.
I turned back. "Andrea. What is yours?"
"Hans," he answered. "What happened to your leg?"
"My father broke it."
"Oh, really? Why?"
"He didn't like me."
"I'm sorry to hear that." He turned back to the window. But he looked a bit uneasy, and spoke to me again. "Is your mother around?"
"I don't have a mother. She is dead. So is my father."
He fell silent for a few seconds. "Are you hungry?"
I nodded quickly. "Yes, sir."
He put an arm around my shoulders. "Come on."