After a cold shower start I had a two dimensional day on a page from a Victorian childrens book. I was laid out flat for lunch and the first part of the smiling face I called the afternoon. I stood alone in my studio. Smoke came from holes in the ground where the village once stood. I made a circle round one invisible roof and remembered growing up. I then remembered growing down.
The stranger which we had seen sitting on the Classical Greek roof had played tricks again. June drew her curtains, I painted mine and all we could see was a patterned wallpaper pasted to the glass. I took the fish off my glasses, swam outisde and blinked a brief period of sunlight. I leant the ladder in my hat against the wall and pretended to climb up into an imaginary window, once inside the cardboard person said hello.
I had some time swinging in the trees with a troop of gibbons before being spread on a table and having cutlery arranged by my table mats. I sailed in Spanish wine while a row of would be Jesus people got holes in their chests. The loudspeakers placed in bird cages made noises while our host stuck a microphone down her slacks. Arrows swept by outside looking for hats. I sang from a moving tumbril.
I stepped out of the alligator jaw bedroom after a long medieval effigy lay in. I exchanged clockwork keys with my wife and then went outside for precisely 30 seconds. She then went out for 25. The bells in the loft chimed amd a hand touched mine. I tried to spend as much time as I could in the tall tower overlooking the one eyed lake. When this eye closed I walked to a place of work.
I had poured my breakfast over the ants nest on my head and was reading the remnants of yesterday’s meal when I became aware of the sound of marching feet. I covered the eyes of a magazine head and disappeared into the bedroom with half a potato. Later, my wife and I had collected several Russian spies disguised as gold fish when we heard the sound of invisible footprints marching back again. I had a head ache in the evening.
I crept out of the door very early in the great white shark morning; taking care I wasn’t spotted by the strange looking creature holding onto the broken gutter pipe (I will have to phone about this). I had a short time with the old master and came back in a chewing gum haze. The diaphanous trails of sixteen separate realities stretched overhead – Bugsy Malone crept into the garden holding half a fish.
The elephant who will spawn a new civilisation when mankind has gone had metamorphosed into a standard lamp. I switched off the light and I was just considering taking the hippopotamus out for lunch when I had to go and baby sit a vacuum like space. I numerically adjusted my biodegradable environment before turning myself into a locomotive called flame. Flame had blown himself out by mid afternoon.