[The boy is small for his age (a nebulous pre-teen range), dressed all in stitched-together white, a massively oversized coat draped over his shoulders. He breathes on the mirror, and writes numbers in the condensation with a finger. 42-42-564. Nothing. He sighs in annoyance, and shoves his hands into his pockets. Then he turns back to the bag he found next to him (his bag, like the coat is his, just for a significantly taller and older him) and starts rifling through it.]
Stein