My Diary

I woke up in the middle of the night, just in time to see one of the early ironclads sail by where dark clouds should be. I finally got back to sleep and then woke again amongst dark clouds – incidentally, there is a friendly vampire in a hidden cellar below the house and we often stop to chat if I am wandering about at night – I am usually the one with traces of blood on my lips. After a breakfast of scattered grain I went in search of long words in a land of shredded paper. I stood on a number of turtles in turn but could not find the right world; I stopped when a passing elephant stuffed its trunk into my pocket. I was still finding mathematical equations in the lining of my jacket when June came back from spending her day clinging to an old fashioned railway signal.


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