It's not the drugs...

Ellie was snuffling in the grass seeking half-eaten pizza when he stumbled out of the woods asking if I could help him.

Hood up, clothes hanging off him, bearded and looking like he'd not washed in a while, he said: "Can you help me?"

"What do you need help with?"

"It's not drugs...I don't do drugs."

"Are you living in there?" I nodded towards the trees.

"Yes, but don't tell the police."

I looked at him. "I won't tell the police. Can you tell me what you need help with?"

"Lost everything. Girlfriend, bairn on the way like..."

He started walking away from us, up the path towards the football pitch, shoulders hunched, his head down.

"Everything, all gone," he muttered over his shoulder.

"Have you looked for help?" I called, as he moved further off.

"Aye... there's nothing."







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