My Diary

I had to change the coloured sand in the sand clock I was handed in a previous existence before changing the water in the mermaid tank. I then had to walk miles in a hoverfly suit to collect the night’s catch from the quayside even though it was many miles inland. Coming back I imagined the Wrekin as a shark’s fin and thought it would be nice to live in an old boat on the valley floor, only thinking of the seaside when the almost invisible girls waltz by. I entered the house almost translucent and handed June a box; she had been keeping her fish scales moist in the bath and the light fitting in the bathroom – which like me has never had a shade – was looking for all the world like a sardine. I stepped into my suit again and checked my halteres in the half light.

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