Bombs Over Byker

In this glum and gloomy place, droopy-faced hunchback buses slump from one rusty stump to another. Tower blocks above begin to crumble and the sound of the whooshing bypass we huddle under accompanies the rumbles of low-flying thunder. Could this really happen, we wonder? I thought this place couldn’t get any rougher when I first discovered the hoods and the puffers. But now these boys are like my brothers, these youngsters I’ve governed, despite being southern. Tonight I’ll give the final order – to choose our enemy once and for all, and fight in this upcoming war.