My Diary

I got up suddenly after accidentally swallowing the telephone – it rang once as it entered the small intestines.  I had to plough the living room floor before breakfast, after which I was free to paint pictures on the soles of my feet. All afternoon I slowly drifted downstream in a bottle, gently bobbing and nonchalantly pulling strips of wallpaper back and writing messages on the reverse.  The evening was as long as a giant’s tongue.

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