My Diary

I got up convinced that 3am occurred several times in the night. I dressed like a Knights Templar and looked at an image of the dining room of my childhood home which was fading fast. Disconcertingly I found a map on the palm of my hand but I couldn’t be bothered to follow it although I did remember that we rarely ate at the dinner table and the indoor fireworks were always a disappointment. A friendly octopus had gotten the shopping so I was able to strap myself into a painting chair moments after walking the dog and bequeathing an empty chalice to a local werewolf. I painted until June came home in a carriage made from the shell of a giant vacuum cleaner and having a canary bird cage for a head. The canaries sang as she removed her granny bonnet.

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