Tales from the Old Neighbourhood

Me and Andre sat on the pavement with our backs up against the cement wall. He was picking chorbs on his arm and chewing some shitty tasting gum. Fireballs they called it. More like cat’s balls I could imagine. It was your typical summer day with the sun high in the sky and no wind about. The heat was trapped in the asphalt and on a slow release out. Whenever I shifted my arse after it got uncomfortable, I’d first have to get used to the burn again before I could chill out. The truth is, you know, Andre wasn’t my best friend. He didn’t even go to my school. He was a year older than me and just happened to live in the neighbourhood. Because we didn’t really move out so much, all the kids in the neighbourhood just got to know each other and eventually formed groups that hung together. But Andre and me were a bit different. We’d both tried to fit into the so-called gangs in our area, but they’d told us to fuck off for some reason. Okay, well, in Andre’s case I can sort of figure out why. But I’ll get to that in a little while. I felt a bit pissed that they wouldn’t let me hang with them though. I thought I was a cool guy. I’m not like Andre, I thought.

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