June went to work early leaving me to join the dots on the comic book ceiling. I placed my collection of luminous postage stamps there, well above where my best friend King Kong could reach them – I let him out through the cinema in my head portal so he could sightsee in New York. I later went out myself; after wrapping my torso in newspaper and tying my shoes up with short lengths of electric cable (sparks descended like spectral skiers from the television mast on my hat – in cold weather I replace it with an ivy encrusted chimney and smoke like Brunel).
I surprised June by walking into the room with my lunch tied up in a handkerchief at the end of a stick; she transformed herself into a black cat. Finding a small wood on the sole of my foot I pulled an emergency electric razor out of an ice cream carton. I placed several small trees in the middle of the lounge and put a larger one behind my ear; an apple fell out and I invented the theory of quantum mechanics. June followed a life size replica of Shirley Temple to town after painting the house in black and white.
While June got ready to go out I pretended to be a stand in for the Queen and knighted a number of people who inhabit the Gollum areas of my imagination. We then went to dinner with a family of amphibians, sinking into a stagnant pond while we waited for our food to arrive. I walked home wrapped up in a roll of embossed wallpaper (which was a trifle uncomfortable where the pattern sunk in) and then played a game of sea monsters with a little princess who had descended from the ornate chandelier.
I clambered out of the house (which had been nicknamed The Water Closet by the door keeper of the Cumulous Cloud public house) through a winking porthole like eye – I wore a red and green bandana and signalled in complementary colours to the stoat standing outside the elaborate wrought iron gate. After delivering a top secret letter I slid into my invisible studio and held several ideas to ransom – no money was paid so I shot them. June came in from the pouring rain carrying her coat.
It was railway tunnel black as I got out of bed at the earliest hour imaginable; I found a lion’s tail issuing from my back but I couldn’t find my mane anywhere and reasoned that I must have left it in someone else’s house. I raced down the cruise liner gangway thinking of female vampires, visited the old werewolf and came home with bite marks in my neck. I noticed several Benedictine monks climb out of my neighbour’s car and I patted their dog when it suddenly appeared out of my sleeve.
I found it difficult getting out of bed this morning, even though my ears had dramatically increased in size and had thrown themselves out of the window. When I walked downstairs to bring them in again the face made of marks on an otherwise bare wall smiled, I saluted like an American general and jumped into a bucket. Later Davy Crockett and I went in search of a field of young carrots which we interrogated before stuffing in our ears and racing down the road with skipping ropes tied round our necks.
I had to feed Polyphemus and all of his sheep before I could have my own breakfast (of lightly fried petals of a rare orchid). I then walked the dog – the jellyfish membrane I used as clothing flapping in the cold breeze. When I returned to the quarter deck the cardboard snake had eaten its fibreboard meal so I glued several pieces of wood together and made a weather vane; the wind wasn’t blowing indoors so I climbed onto the back of a giraffe and pushed a purple wig through the chimney pot.