Streets? Dangerous.

The streets are now paved with foolish people. These days it is better to travel by car. Last walk taken and you could not move for rabid consumers, some male, others with prams emptied of baby and forgotten in some mad rush

Huge black machines come shooting across the sky, stray? No excuse me, just screams from within and flames of burning fire. The back of the towns are filled with dogs, cats, rabbits, crows, all number of rabid monstrosities. Yes, it has come to this.

No longer, I’m afraid, do the policemen blow their whistles in time to the utter harmony of village existence. Not that it is a village. Ever since the crew of highly successful businessmen came riding into town in their coaches and limousines, began pushing around all the young butchers, the stationers. I was there, on the day, how utterly morose.

Fights broke out, between man and can machine. The yelling! The clunking! Dung! Dung! Dung! Broken parts strewn over the pavement, next to split up busted hands cracked off from mad drug store owners, assistants. While evilly suited cigar puffers stood clouded thickly in dense mists of… smoke, grinning like that guy out of the A-team, and the women had scrambled up onto the rooftops, threw down scones and bon bons, yelling, “Terry!” or “Barry!” or “Get him in the dispenser!” safe from harms way.

The threat of helicopters flying in the air, and firing their pellets of vocal order, “Everybody get into your places!” And cheeky teenagers with wooden catapults fire their best conkers, only to find they fall short and sail gracelessly onto Ednas head, she hides in the rubbish, only peeking at the fracas on occasion.

And little has changed since that day. There is a large statue of a man nobody knows, or really wants to know, and he wears an expression akin to apathy, while also seems to say, “How great am I?” The placard at the bottom possibly read, “Hey, do some work.” But who knows, it’s all been covered, by chocolate slime and fur, from a bear, probably.

In fact the resolution here has been turned down a few notches, the walls have become fuzzy. Luckily we have been able to purchase some radiation glasses. And recently there have been some discussions as to whether or not these should be legal, because they have a machine attached to it possibly causing damage. But it’s okay, most of us reckon, unless you happen to be a fuddy duddy.

The streets have indeed become lunatics the outside world is a dangerous place to be. Do not ever go to it.

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