Of course I’ve heard of it – some garden. No
not lately. Yes, I’ll find it I suppose.
But that’s beside the point. What sort of job
is this for someone with my record? Served
right through that cosmic quarrelling that we
promoted to eternal war. Good God!
Reduced to this, evicting people and
for what, one single slip you say? God knows
it isn’t easy being human. He
could easily have overlooked it, closed
one eye for heaven’s sake. I’m not sure how
to handle this – a tricky business – well
outside my line of country, but I know
an order when it’s handed down, but then
you must admit it seems vindictive. Now
I must get on. What’s that address again?
Perhaps you’d better write it down. Good Lord,
is that the time? Who’s seen my flaming sword?

(February 1994)