My Diary

I woke relatively late; the small person, who if I was younger would be called Colin, had finished riding a sit on lawn mower inside my head and was heading up the garden followed by an average sized herd of zebra. I thought about psychedelic horse racing and how many tea bags could be balanced on a single earlobe and then jumped out of bed. June was trying to use one of the freshwater turtles to vacuum the floor and I pulled a pan and brush out of the rabbit cage. I stood in the kitchen like a small wooden shed attached to the back of a grand building which nobody could ever remember being used for anything. Personally I would use myself to store my admittedly modest collection of hobgoblin teething dummies.

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