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» Features » Poetry » Short Stories and Prose
| SHORT STORIES AND PROSE Punk night out "Hey where were you on Saturday night?" came a voice from behind me. It was my neighbour, that irritating half-breed nosey-parker. "I was at this punk party, well maybe it wasn't what you could call punk at all." He said nothing and carried on staring at me. "Well was it any good, I mean what you mean, wasn't really a punk party, haah?" So there I was standing in the middle of my driveway explaining to this belch of a human being my weekend curriculum. Thus began I on my sordid tale of fire, fast cars and losers who listened to Rancid at night and donned suits and ties during the day…
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