The plan was to get on a bicycle to earn some money. It wasn’t to get hit by cars, thumped by skinheads or to see my surroundings in a whole new light
At first I didn’t realise I’d been punched. I’m not sure why my brain assumed a bird had flown into me, but I suppose a magpie attack was more likely than a random bloke lashing out at my ribcage, so it took a second to realise what was happening.
I was on my bike, waiting in a side street for traffic to clear. The punch came from behind and by the time my mouth let fly a few expletives, the culprit was leaving. Then he caught wind of my colourful language and turned back to get in my face. He was a skinhead in a bad mood. Accusing me of being in his way, he told me I was lucky he didn’t do more damage. I paused mid-reply. This was the moment I realised he was ready to go to hell tonight, and the only thing he wanted to take with him was me.