My Diary

June went to back to work holding a small part of the Atlantic ocean in two differently sized boxes. I named the small box after a Viking sailor who suffered from sea sickness and the larger one after the personal valet of King William the first (incidentally King William the second died nor very far from where I am writing this after a wasted day hunting wild boar at Lords Cricket Ground during the 2012 Olympic Games). Poppy and I meditated on adjoining rocky outgrowths from an otherwise pristine lawn. I thought about gnarled fingers emerging from thick mud and the likelihood of an expensively gloved hand reaching down to touch them while she watched intently as a small flock of seagulls circled the municipal rubbish dump.

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