I was working yesterday evening and drove into the town centre on my break. There were lots of police around, some on guard at the two entrances into a car park where a fifteen year old boy was viciously beaten in the early hours of Sunday morning. On Wellington Street churchgoers gathered for evening services. I got to thinking about what that congregation thinks of Ballymena in the noughties. Me? I think it is a horrible town riven by sectarianism, rife with hard drugs and a frightening place in which to bring up a family.
A social worker friend tells me my view of life has become skewed because of the work I do.