Steve was one of my first friends. He told me that the big girls had come back for the Spacehopper when it disappeared after 3 months and he read my cards and told me I would die aged 88 (murder victim). We had a secret club in Sandra's garage, the password was Nastursium, hope it's OK to give that away now, I had such trouble remembering it at the time, and payment for entry was a bag of sweets to be shared around and he would read out his made up stories of bloody death and creepy carnage. He introduced me to Joy Division too, which was a very good thing.
Now he's telling stories to a much wider audience in posher surroundings. I'm sure he'll Still accept lemon bonbons as payment but I expect the password's changed.
Break a leg, Steve.
2 comments:
Ah such innocent times - secret clubs, passwords, bags of sweets. There was something so cosy and warm and knowing about those secret little groups other kids weren't in. Hope they still have things like that, and it hasn't all changed to gangs, knives and bags of heroin.
It was really. I want to say I'm sure it's still the same mix, but I don't really believe that. If not drugs, then PCs and Games. From what I hear there's not so much general 'playing out' anymore : (
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