My Diary

I made time to make the bedroom an oasis – feathers still floated to earth from the night before.  I crossed the desert by boat and wrote to Natalie from a rocky outcrop.  I tied the message to a dove.  I alternated dinner with the act of making an exact reproduction of me from soap, washed myself well and went to work.  I plugged in the tree and waited for the tiny feet to light up, reminding me that my new shoes make my own feet pong.

My Diary

June and I (joined by butterfly wings) went out for the day.  The first part of the journey was crawling through a narrow tube and then we fell, among coins, into a funnel.  I mentioned to June about the heat coming from a walking stick.  We came back disguised as spaghetti.  I later had to descend the crawling steps to work among the familiar orange lanterns.  I pretended to milk cows while the gnome guards marched over head.

My Diary

I had to fly out in to the countryside on the back of a house sparrow.  I talked with the sheep man in the paddock with hair instead of grass.  The grass had gone grey and I turned the pages on the television screen.  I came home just as the antelope had managed to escape the lion; I sat down on top of a cake and waited for the voices to start.  My time as a gladiator was short and I brought my grass hair skirt to lay in the family room.

My Diary

I got up late; squeezing my telephone voice back into the toy box, I speedily took off the model building site I was wearing, jumped into my cereal bowl and licked out the bath. Watching the door for representatives of the bat people I rushed to the shops and then to the test tube where I work.  I threw a number of small animals onto the coat rack and searched my pockets for cognizant seaweed. Triceratops were moving up the valley.

My Diary

I sprawled about on a saucer musing on the missing cup for some of the tea service morning.  I then jumped into the bath pretending it was the gateway to heaven, floating out to ride a cloud to work.  I attempted to eat a bow and quiver of arrows and then artificially smiled at everyone who came in from the cold.  I met my match with the young man who had swallowed a medieval catapult.  June remained in the castle.

My Diary

I spent the laughing part of the day with a little princess, drinking tea through a walkie-talkie and eating pies from a plastic hair dryer.  After I emerged from the polar bear den I had to trudge to my place of work, standing in the spotlight  and making glove puppets from used chewing gum.  I spit this part of the day out and returned home to count steam locomotives as they sped by a menagerie of small furry animals.

My Diary Yesterday

Christmas Morning (I got up at the same time as I went to bed).  June and I went out as pantomime characters – she in a pumpkin coach, me with a pumpkin head.  I heard the laughter from the other side of the hill as we galloped down the side of a giantess. I hid some happy memories in my pocket and then clasped a signal box to my chest while June tried on some new shoes.  After dinner we walked underwater listening to the seasonal sounds.