Twice a year, everyone in the neighbourhood receives a notice in the letterbox telling them that a street collection would be coming round soon. Over the next two weeks, people trash around in their garages, contemplating over junk and long-gone memories. And eventually, the weekend before the trucks are due, a heaped pile appears out the front.

Then the scavengers come. There are two types of scavengers; interested observers and mongers. The interested observers are the ones that peek into boxes as they walked past, perhaps taking the long route home to gain a look at those few extra piles. Sometimes they may take something; a book that was left out, or a fridget cry, but instead buy a new copy of a book, or a second-hand fridge.

The other scavengers, the mongers, are different. They amble around in small trucks, eyeing up the things that could be worth a buck; that chair, the cables in the back of the T.V. They know what theys beginning to get dark, when there are less people in the streets. Their trucks rustle down the street, slowly, occasionally pulling to the side to look or let a car pass.

Whilst they attack other piles with gusto, they never really batter an eye at mind. I guess itve been hoping that Ill point and theys more than junk.

Until then, Ill always be a monger.