The Boy Who Lost His Fortune

Previously

…Leo sat down on the cold, gritty pavement, his silk pajamas already gathering a fine layer of dust. He hugged his knees to his chest, his lower lip trembling. The tears, which had momentarily subsided, began to flow again, hot and heavy. He let them fall, a silent, solitary protest against the universe. He was a rich boy, lost and alone, in the dirty, uncaring streets, crying over his vanished fortune. He must be banging crying in the streets then. Someone must pick him up. In the street dirty and crying.