Nelson Galaxy

Now that the weather is improving the running of the gauntlet that is walking down Whitechapel High Street is becoming unbearable. Daily, I will be accosted by a drunken lunatic demanding money or cigarettes. They are very intimidating and aggressive, to say the least.

Striding down the High Street recently, I was stopped in my tracks by someone who grabbed me from behind. The first thing I thought was that I was being mugged, again. Spinning around I saw one of the strangest, scrawniest creatures I had ever seen.

“Excuse me mate, ‘ere mate. Do you speak English?”
“No, I do not.”
“Ah great, na body speeks Inglish round here.”

His cockney slur was only just viable as language, never mind English, but the thing that struck me most was that he had cameleon eyes.

“Sorry mate, I’m really stoned.” Boy, was he. His eyes were not focused on anything and were pointed in opposing directions. I wondered what wonderful fantastic lands he could see. He may be able to slice through reality and time into other dimensions, different ones for each eye.

“If you can help me I’ll give you some free weed.”
“No thanks and I do not have any spare change.”
“Na mate, that’s not what I’m after. I was hoping you had some two pound coins you didn’t want. If you give me five of em I’ll give you some free weed.”
“I really have no money on me,” I lied.

Without another word he stepped out into the road, zig zagging the heavy traffic. One eye was avoiding chariots ridden by maidens and the other was careering around spacecraft from the planet Zog. What a strange and wonderful world he must inhabit.