A walk home in Newcastle

Walking up from the station I noticed a large number of teenage girls in mini-skirts and boots. A loud honk of a horn signaled some of these girls walking in front of a bus. A bit worrying.

Then there was a group of young boys on a corner in front of me, and the next thing I know one of them has swung a punch at another and there is the sound of a crunch of a bone, and the hit boy runs off up the street. I walk up the street and look across the road, where I see the hit boy covering his face, and there is blood flooding out from his nose and has made his face red and streaky. He has the look of fear in his eyes.

In a bit of daze I continued up the street, wondering what kind of city this was that young kids punched each other during rush hour. I was snapped out of my deep thoughts by the realisation that there was someone I knew beside me. A girl from netball. I don't see people I know very often in Newcastle, so it was a pleasant surprise, and made me think that perhaps I was settling in here.

I said goodbye to my new acquaintance and dashed into Marks and Sparks, picked up a lovely green looking piece of broccoli, took it to the self check out, paid 42p, and walked out again. So amazingly easy.

I continued my walk home to Dinsdale Road, pressed the doorbell and was greeted by a jumpy Chris, who had drunk too much coffee.