‘Have you got planning permission?’

‘Planning permission? For growing up, you mean?’

‘Well, if you have anything sticking out you’ll need to get the relevant official agreement. You might be putting someone’s garden in shade or making a nice area look decidedly tacky.’

‘Where do I get this permission from and what happens if I dont get it?’

‘The Local Authority... They’ll come and make an inspection of all your parts, ask a sample of your friends and neighbours if your proposed body will annoy then and, if all else fails, you’ll have an injunction slapped on you. In short, you’ll not be allowed to go on with your development.’

‘I didn’t ask to be born, did I?’

‘Well, I didn’t want to be your mother, either. I’ll probably fire off a representation to the Authority about your future existence.’

‘Well, Mummy dear, I’m thinking about going into business as a high rise block of flats ... for single parents and battered spouses.’

‘That won’t go down too well with the toffs around here. But it don’t ‘alf please me, me lad. Your father would have been proud of you.’

‘Did he get planning permission?’

‘Well, he ended up a lighthouse ... even though there waas no sea anywhere near … but he sure well lit me up good and proper ... at least once.’


(published 'New Hope International' 1989)