I was not alone there. As I turned toward the two cabins, I saw a delicate slight figure crouching in one of the two rooms on the floor. The legs drawn up , arms crossed over , a blond curly head lay at my feet . The pub was a bit out in the neighborhood . That's why it surprised no one there that also repeatedly heroin addicts seeking a shelter , found their way to the toilet rooms. In general, the host intervened in such a case and brought the Fixer and the cutlery gently but firmly outside. " Hello, can I help you?" , I asked , as always, and knelt down at the boy. He still looked very young. He did not respond and I touched him therefore easy on the shoulder. Then my hand went under his chin . He admitted it , that I lifted his head gently . Two bright blue eyes looked at me empty children . The boy could not be more than fifteen or sixteen years old . He was neatly dressed and gave off no body odor, as I only knew it from the unfortunate creatures who found shelter from the cold street here . Routinely, I was looking for tell-tale signs of conventional drugs and turned surprised to find how relieved I felt when I could not find anything right away.
" Did you take something ? " , I asked the boy for safety's sake anyway. He shook his head imperceptibly.My own son was now grown up and lived in an orderly and fair . There had been times, even for us , which I did not like you back think. To help father feelings and the urge to let my new friend Frank and the beer me forget for a moment. I gently lifted the boy to his feet , struck down the toilet lid and sat on it . Then I pulled him onto my lap and felt my ears not to be trusted.