There’s Martian’s living at the end of our lane.
In fact a whole family of them!
They drive a red Toyota sedan and I see them come and go all the time.
Always smiling, always waving, always coming and going. I know not where.
It seem’s the Martians keep to themselves, but at the same time trying their best to assimilate into the Nelson community.
I imagine that on occasion’s they would cause quite a stir, eg: checking into Hotel’s.
‘Hi, we’re the Martians.’
Joining the Boy Scouts, ‘Hi were the Martian’s, take me to your leader.’
Iv’e seen them at the Airport occasionally, oh and okay I did yell out once, ‘Look out the Martians have landed.’
Now, I’m not allowed to ring the Police or the Military anymore and tell them about the Martians at number 42. In fact, I’m not allowed to go within 200 metres of the Martian Family or ring them either.
But that’s okay.
You see, I’ve seen a removal truck pull up and drive into our lane. Evidently there’s a new family moving into number 27, they’re the Crapper family and I can’t wait to meet them and ring the plumber.