The Punk

Stephen McEwan

The only punk our town ever had was sitting two seats away and for five minutes I didnt notice. Well, ten years had passed since Id seen him and anyway I was half-asleep, only after dragging myself up and peering over did I glance once then twice at the familiar face. Studying him for a number of seconds, I assumed at first he was an ex-neighbour or maybe the elder brother of an old schoolmate. It took me some time to realise; I mean he couldnt have looked more different if hed worn a disguise.

Then it clicked. ... (continues)