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anyone," he said defensively. She stood up and looked down at him for a moment. "It was my Mothers," and with that she scampered over the ditch and ran up through the next field on her way home. Sean watched her, kicking himself.
    Joes shop was easy pickings. Old man Joe was too old for this era. His fault was that he believed in the best in people and never thought that anybody would be so cruel. But this weakness would be exploited. To the full, and eventually would put him out of business. The scam was simple. Joe had an array of penny jellies, lined up in plastic containers, in a glass display just under his cash register. But it wasn't the cash in the till that was the treasure here, it was the cigarettes behind him that were the target. Two boys enter the shop. They each had done this many times over. Joe was old and short of hearing. The first boy with a fresh twenty pence coin speaks to Joe. "Can I get some penny jellies please?" Joe, seeing the twenty pence coin, and enlightened by the simplicity and purity of childhood, bends down to the penny jelly section of his store. "Which ones would you like my dear lad?" he would enquire. And with about fifty choices to chose from, Jimmy would take up as much time as he could.
    "No not one of them sir, the ones next to them. No not that side the other side. Yeah one of those, and can I have one of these ones here too please sir, no not those ones the ones behind them. Ya one of them. And let me see now. Are the apple jacks any nice Sir?" "Yes son, they’re quite exquisite. They leave a lovely after taste in your mouth." Joe liked to think of himself as a bit of a sweet expert. It was his way of keeping himself thinking that he was still in touch with the youth of the day. And because of this, delaying the inevitability of eventually having to admit to himself that he is getting old. "No I don't think I'll have one of them, maybe one of these ones at the front. No not those ones, next to them. No the other side."
    As this charade was going on, Sean had snuck in behind the counter, to where the goldmine was at arms length. With a baggy long jacket, which was for winter use, but slightly modified with extra pockets stitched on the inside, it was only a matter of filling up. This time around though, Sean noticed something new. A yellow can that said lighter fluid on it. Lighters were rarely seen in that area and those who managed to afford one did their best to keep it for as long as they could. Sean stuffed the can, along with 120 cigarettes and five packs of rolling papers into his pockets, then jumped over the counter and walked calmly out of the shop. He waited outside for Jimmy who followed soon after with his 20 jellies. Sean didn't tell Jimmy about the lighter fluid, he knew himself that you could get high by inhaling the fumes from it and he wanted to keep it to himself. The boys headed for the camp.
    Jimmy built a large five skinned joint and Sean just struggled to slap together a three skinner. He was never the best at rolling, but Jimmy seemed to be a master of the art. He even made up his own style spliffs every now and then, giving them weird names like hedgefog, or grassfogger. This one he named the smoker joker. The boys were quickly stoned and set about playing one of their favourite past times. There was an old tree stump in the middle of the camp and they had drawn a bullseye in the middle of it. They would take turns throwing knives, (Stolen from many different places and stashed in the camp,) from a distance of about 15 feet to see who could hit the target. This was Sean’s game. He would hit the innermost circle on average six times out of ten, and he was always getting better. Jimmy on the other hand rarely ever hit the target.
    Jimmy, never being the best at losing, decided he'd go home. Sean stayed on watching the sun break through the gaps in the trees. Bathing in it's warmth as he lay in the dry dusty muck, back slanted on the grassy slope, as he smoked