He took an old Zippo lighter out of the top pocket of his Jacket , the leather around the pocket was chipping away . I could tell that it had seen its fair share of action. He then turned around and reached into an old ruck sack that was lying on the ground behind him and I saw that like the lighter his jacket also had an anarchy sigh printed on the back of it .
Out of the ruck sack he pulled a joint , rolled in tie dye style paper . I couldn't take my eyes off it , maybe it was the mushrooms or that I had never seen anything like it before . He lit the joint and took a long draw . He held it in for awhile and the released a thick cloud of smoke . The smell filled the air around me and then he began to speak .
“I was born in Liverpool , don’t worry about the date what you need to be aware of is the state of the time I grew up in rather than when I grew up. I lived a sheltered life , you know, went to school and all that shit . It was a tense time for England , social uproar and all those good things that go along with it . When I was 14 my parents were killed in a riot . they weren't apart of it , innocent bystanders . They went to the shops to grab some milk and crisps and just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.
I could see that this story moved him , his mood changed from friendly to noticeably sad . He took another hit and continued. “ I went to live with uncle , he wasn’t around much so I had free roam to do what I wanted . So like any unguided teenager I got into the most rebel , dangerous movement I could find , Punk rock . I started going to these really divey underground shows where I met a bunch of guys who obviously shared the same interests as me , you know drinking , head banging and getting up to shit . I can remember every saint Paddy’s day we used to see who could get arrested first , we were minors so the charges were never harsh .”
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