This is a story of suburban survival. It involves drugs, vandalism, alcohol and a neighbourhood under siege. This sorry saga began several months ago in my quiet tree-lined street. So quiet is this neighbourhood, the kids have accused me of dragging them to live in a suburb that could double as a morgue weekdays. Local entertainment reaches its frenzied peak on the weekend when everyone pushes out their wheelie bins.
Even in this suburban backwater, we’d experienced some vandalism over the years. A bent car aerial here. A nicked wheelbarrow there. Neighbourhood Watch works in my street. There’s nothing else to do, I guess. We’ve caught a burglar. I saw this guy in a tracksuit and did nothing. I probably waved. Idjut! He was, in burglar speak, casing the joint. Another more alert citizen saw him walking out of a neighbour’s house carrying a TV. She called the police. And they nabbed him.
Full Article: Stone the Crows