It’s not easy telling someone your going to frack the fuck out of their allotment.
And I should know.
I tried to find some common ground, standing in fertile soil with him would have to do.
He told me about his allotment journey, his fight against blight.
His holy endeavour to produce a perfect potato and what a difference it made to his Sunday.
I told him that would all go now and he should prepare himself because fracking can be fun.
I said he was a little obsessed with growing something that can easily be bought from.
Even a happy shopper.
I said he could be a happy shopper and learn to grin as we fracked the fuck out of his allotment.
I left him crying into my facts about fracking brochure.
I touched his shoulder and gave his wife a wink.
Change is change and if it comes in the shape of fracking.
Don’t get sentimental about a shitty shed on a muddy allotment.