I woke from one dream and then immediately entered another: I was standing on the rungs of a horizontal ladder and the ground was so far away it couldn’t even be seen – one by one the rungs start breaking; I unzip my all in one suit and stand naked in the middle of the street – thankfully everyone has elephant heads. After my dreams I went out to buy some cat and dog food, coming home followed by giant rabbits. I tied burning torches to my head and ran up the hill – June ran down with a huge bucket of water in her eight arms.
I spent the first part of the morning watching a crack in the canvas grow ever larger – eventually a number of elephants climbed out (some with the remains of Carthaginian warriors still clinging to their backs), these were followed by young girls wearing polar bear shoes. I went out to post some letters. On my return I noticed that several of the transistor radios were talking to each, only stopping when I accidentally tripped over a Roman soldier asleep on the landing. I listened to yellow eyes being hit while signing my name in royal blood.
I wrote letters in a heat haze, an early form of dinosaur curled up at my feet – I had a dream where heaven was full of dinosaurs and god was waiting for a meteorite impact. All the invisible people in the hallway were called Homer and I took the dog on a odyssey while June was at work trampling tennis balls into wine. Later I had to go to a sub-Saharan town to get sand and came back in a storm. Then I sat in my bivouac painting flowers on a dress twenty five sizes too big. June and I went out for dinner in the evening – dressed as electric guitars.
It was a very hot day and the figure who had been standing in the hall for several years had fireballs for eyes (I had to wear a UFO hat and fought my way through the undergrowth on the giant’s head). I did my home work before I went to school and descended on a parachute holding some old envelopes which I hoped would stick. Unfortunately after repeatedly photographing myself astride a ruin from the Han Dynasty I didn’t have time to fill them. I was still catching strange voices when June came back earlier than expected sporting a Frans Hals beard.
June and I decided to wear frying pans and other kitchen utensils instead of clothes; she wore sausage earrings and I stuck a bamboo shoot up my nose – I breathed through it as the water level rose and a pair of flying gloves landed on a water lily leaf. After I gave my personal details to our pet rabbit I made up a lawn mower from strands of grass and followed the migrating herds to town and back. June stayed in a gopher hole decorating the hall, later painting eye sockets on paper footballs. The flying gloves came back in the evening.
The day begun with rain drops falling on a looking glass hastily thrown down on the grass the night before – hoof prints followed a circular path. I made the route look like an old man smoking a pipe before going out for the day with June. We went by solar chariot and I kept thunderbolts in the boot just in case. We looked round boiling cauldrons and I said a spell backwards just before eating lunch. Walking in the opposite direction to the cellophane hordes we managed to get home before the candle burnt through the rope.
June ran out of the house before I got up carrying the little man from the space capsule in the garden. I rose and put the camera together. I then photographed the dog in her bikini, went to town dressed as a duck billed platypus and finally watched the radio in lieu of a television screen. June came back sooner than expected with a wig made from discarded sweet wrappings; I immediately put a vegetarian hot dog on my head and we went out. We watched a sleepy butterfly before her wings got broken – they were mended later.