SANDS OF DELUSION 

By Tessa Harvey

LOST

Ed peered round a broken crate. Uncle was sprawled on a very old couch. He tiptoed to the door, bypassing all the squeaky boards he knew. His sister had not come. She had said: "I will come, Eddie. I will find you." Had she forgotten? 
    Perhaps he needed to move now and find her. Uncle had not fastened his door properly. This was the boy's chance. Quietly her picked up some notes lying on the broken crate and headed for the exit. The snoring stopped. Anxious, Ed paused.
    The big man mumbled something and kept his eyes shut. Presently, the arhythmic snoring began again.
    The little boy slipped outside and ran away from the docks. Had he glanced back, he would have seen two police cars pull up at both sides of the dilapidated building and quite a few police converge on the boy's former home.
    But he didn't look back. If he did, it is doubtful he would have realised the police had come to help him.
    In all his short life he could only remember just one promise of help and nothing had come of it.
    If Ed had glanced back, he would have seen something that may even have caused him to go scurrying back to the doubtful shelter of his so-called Uncle.
    Hooker McGee had seen him leave. For a long time he had waited for the boy to emerge. His chance had come. Lazily he unfurled his long legs and rose from the bollard where he had been lounging. 
    But that movement had not gone unnoticed. Someone very sharp-eyed indeed was assessing the situation. And she had God on her side.

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