As June followed a piece of spaghetti up the story book hill I laid paving slabs round the perimeter of a giant footprint that appeared in the garden overnight. After painting a line around the imaginary body I covered it up with a fishing net and waited for the ships to come in. I stood to attention as the rest of the family leant against the side of a hill watching the carnival go by. We all followed like aboriginal hunters to the fairground watering hole as the big beasts came down to drink – unfortunately the Nordic goddess hurt her back coming down the slide.
I found a man trapped in a small metal box, I couldn’t get him out at first as I had to wait for my breakfast to arrive in a police car. Once free he ran off with a garland of worms; I watched him go as I moved a pile of dirt from one place to another – I imagined the piles as elephant dung and floated into the air holding cosmic dust in a paper bag. June came back (with a waterfall stole) before I could discover the origins of the universe but some time after the small man shot by riding a diplodocus. I was amazed by the size of the dinosaur’s wedding ring.
A friend found the remains of the ark after it had hit an iceberg in the North Atlantic so we spent the day making our own ocean to float it on. I dug out the hull of a ship and put flowers at the bow, he made a working model of the alimentary system of a blue whale. We had lunch sitting on cheese and Marmite sandwiches dipping our toes in the water and then stood up to our necks in front of a microphone, he sang a song and then I followed with blue birds flying before my spectacles. I crawled in a floating tin can as he went off to find a lorry.
I left the length of pipe my wife and I have been living in very early, a long time before a bead of sweat ran from one end to the other and then dripped off, scattering the animals on the plains of the Serengeti as it did so. I shot along the conducting cable to a relay point in the remote countryside, stopping there to save common lizards from small plastic soldiers and pull a giant hair net off a giant head. I waved goodbye to a cloth cap and then spent the middle of the day sitting crossed legged on a wooden Foreign Legion fort in a Tidworth sandpit.
I sat on a perch quietly whistling to myself until summoned to the dinosaur pool where I blew up balloons and found a message that only the old cat could interpret. I came home to inscribe my name on fossilised tree trunks before having to go back to the Jurassic playing fields for a game of water rounders. Meanwhile June sat on a tropical beach fastening bath caps to wooden cats, each with a different expression on its face; I finally emerged from the waves wearing a classic white bikini – we then followed our footsteps to the back door.
I had to pull myself along through head high pampas grass before I reached the place where asteroid debris drops into dog bowls. I stuck cabbage leaves behind my ears and walked home through a purple banana plantation. My studio was stuck on a U-boat conning tower and I plucked the eyebrows of my action man doll as we slowly sank – outside dumper truckers were moving earth from one chess square to another – calling out checkmate when the soil touched the top of an Easter Island head (why did they have such big ears?).
June left a message in a silk cocoon before riding a whale to work – I was tempted to read the cocoon and make a dress out of the message but I try not to think like that any more. I went to the city in a shed to pick up several versions of tomorrow (what I really wanted was several versions of yesterday) and then went to town in search of a Hawaiian dancer. I planned to wrap myself around a wildlife pond like a moustache which suddenly came to life on an old man’s face but danced barefoot instead. Snakes can often be found under sheets of metal.