Mr. Hoppy lived in a small flat high up in a tall concrete building. He lived alone. He had always been a lonely man and now that he was retired from work he was more lonely than ever.
There were two loves in Mr. Hoppy’s life. One was the flowers he grew on his balcony. They grew in pots and tubs and baskets, and in summer the little balcony became a riot of colour.
Mr Hoppy’s second love was a secret he kept entirely to himself.
GAH! I must learn more of Mr. Hoppy! This is why we learned to love novels- Roald Dahl’s storytelling genius. I thought I had read everything he had written for kids, then a lovely South African woman from my church gave me this late work and I read it twice in the same day. Once to myself and once out loud to a fascinated audience. Dahl books were always a chief delight of my childhood, especially when read out loud by an adult.
This is typical Dahl – amusing, fast-paced and terribly immoral in what it teaches children about the world. Therefore, it is tremendous.
Your Correspondent, Now he’s ready for some power-nesting.