It was near the freezing point that day. I was walking outside when I found {him?}. Nothing more than a pile of baggage, a piece of cloth and a bag, in the form of what might be a human. Was he alive? Frozen to death? Was I staring at an unwilling mummy? After all, I did not stop. 

I did not get the answers to these questions.

Later that day, it had turned into night. The pile had lost its form, the core went missing. 

I think I was relieved. 

For me, or for {him?}?