My Diary

June and I walked some white lines to town, nodded quietly at some silent squares and then disappeared into a camp fire distance. We ate in a cave along with our ancestors (recognizable in their white coats), with mobile phones in our noses and broken bones in our pockets. June saw a tiger in the wall mirror while I only saw a jungle – however, we both noted the footprints which came but never went. She had to go to work briefly after our meal, leaving me to work in my studio like a sunny morning (in my head a dull day always knocks the door). She came in later with wallpapered glasses and wearing shoes made from reconstituted Sixties sports cars. We decided to have a second dinner commensurate with the first, although hers was bilingual and mine was mute.

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