My Diary

Out very early, walking barefoot in the pouring rain. I met the old non soldier and reminisced about rocks and minerals while packing apples into my school satchel. I came home by mechanical camel, counting ornate gates and fence posts while trying to remember my lines for a bit part in a play by Sophocles – stopping off half way at a pub called the Oedipus Rex – once in I pulled the dog out from a crystal pyramid and threaded the cats through a tear in subjective space time.

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My Diary

I got up as a French version of an English breakfast (vegetarian of course), had a bath under a dripping tap and then stuck a hoover up my jumper. Resembling as I did a World War Two tank destroyer I stumbled about among rotting vegetation in my rhinoceros beetle studio and among prospective shadow people in the white room between my dreams and someone else’s. While the rain started I persevered in my attempt to find the right recipe for a 25th Century goulash.

My Diary

I dreamt of feeling unwell and then woke up ill; the small green dragon laying next to me was looking for a flame as I flew up for a breakfast of sky fungus. I painted an autumn landscape on a passing cloud and then made a sculpture that rained. A scarecrow entered the house by the back door pulled out a goldfish bowl from under its hat and then made cockerel noises. After a short break I went out, writing a message for June on one of two hard boiled eggs I had found in the fridge.

My Diary

I slept well for once, waking in a bee hive where I communicated with the queen bee; teaching her later how to play chess – even though I could hardly remember myself, not having played for forty years. I heard the door slam and waltzed downstairs dressed in a tiger costume. The king tiger walked the dog and then returned to make semaphore signals in the window of his studio. A fiddler crab returned my message in between painting his self portrait based on an early Rembrandt.

My Diary

June went to the cold coffee farm for the last time this year. I washed up and then walked the dog with a boa constrictor around my neck. We watched the passengers disembark from a shining silver ship and then get on a double decker loofah (Aphrodite climbed out of the bath before a lost tribe crossed the bathroom floor looking for a poisonous frog). I decided to move the garden pond and told June when she returned; meanwhile the famous writer punched the captain before the ship sank.

My Diary

I woke in the middle of a dream, there was fresh water between the floor joists, and then went back to sleep in a turtles nest. I poked my head above the sand just after June had gone to work, Poppy the Doge of Venice was trying on a pair of skis and Bugsy the cat was asleep in a wine glass. I called for the waiter and came myself dressed in a suit and hiding a brown envelope in my pocket. June came back later as a photograph. I placed her in my album next to a picture of a traction engine.

My Diary

I ran out of the race track bedroom as I had to make a telephone call. I used a patented cheese scraper phone and when I had to call back I used a lavatory pan brush. After charging up a couple of cushions I walked the dog along a trail of mirror fragments, each reflecting a different aspect of my character. A silver and gold dragonfly landed on my head, settling between the intergalactic antenna and a Victorian faucet – which incidentally had been dripping for years.