A taste of crime

Our little house in Redfern isn't your average, or so I thought. Sure it has had its fair share of.. police activity. It has always been something that has flowed over me, never really affected me too much. Then a simple act of a child thief climbing through a first floor window has brought a certain sting to experience of recent times.

Not so long ago I was driving home and noticed a more than normal amount of people congregating on the corner and a lot of shouting. As I stepped out of my car without much of a second thought, arguments and shouting in are not uncommon around her, my attention shocked my senses an almost comical scene for a sunny afternoon.

A portly, balding man in in a cardigan steps forward towards another aged who is gingerly backing away. The cardiganed gentleman is brandishing a large kitchen knife above his head, shouting and threatening the bestpectacled victim. Immediately my heart is thumping around my like a shoe in a dryer. I don't claim to be a brave person.


As they come towards me I back away, and the shouting of the old Greek wife, I assumed, of Mr Cardigan Kitchen Knife. She is walking behind him screaming all kinds of extended noooo's, followed by some Greek that I could not quite catch. Its an image seared into my brain, and makes me wonder what had happened. But nobody knows.

I ran inside, drawing the curtains as the shouting roved around, with the Steel Cardie beginning to threaten pretty much anyone in the crowd of people that had formed. The call to the cops was rather useless, as I am sure they were already on their way. However it was a strange experience to relay information to the person at the police station.

That was the second time I have ever called the cops. Except to report a missing phone. It makes me wonder whether I should be living here. If I should be living somewhere 'safe'.

And... then... yesterday... someone stole our laptops. 2 were under a week old. What a shame.