I'm a stranger here myself.

Alien Telephone Box.
Border City series.

I tire of parents and folk telling me the olden days were much safer and better. "Do you remember when people left there doors open." they say (usually because if they lived where I grew up people had nothing worth stealing), or "We used to walk around in slippers sipping tea and sharing jam sandwiches whilst helping each other build sheds. It was so safe back then and there was never any crime.."
Well I don't believe it was any safer at all. Bad things were just less publicised.
Having said that I dont remember much bother growing up other than the odd granny getting into a street fight with a neighbour, some teenage pregnancies, and a pervert of an ice cream man lynched by the locals. I was left to roam, climb trees and sharpen sticks like all young lads should.
As part of my Border City project I have photographed a lot of these places in and around where I grew up, each image with a little story to tell. Take the image above. This telephone box was once the old red type and started as my own personal Tardis. Then it was used to make my first phone call, it cost me 2 pence. Then Me and eight of the local kiddies tried to break the world record for how many people could fit inside, little did we know it was double that. Then after many years of abuse, the telephone box was replaced with a new one and this was the only time I had seen it without the windows smashed.

I particularly like the picture of the alien on kiosk. A nice metaphor I think..

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