My Diary

An early start to the day; although when I pulled on my suit, based on the front facade of Reims Cathedral, June was already up. She plucked her eyebrows on the front porch as a luxury cruise liner had berthed in the bathroom and the night dancer was trying on her pitch black tutu in the hourglass silence of our bedroom. I watched gold pocket watches amble along the horizon as I sat in the front seat of a moving goldfish bowl with my head hired out to the local dramatic society for a brand new performance of “A Midsummer’s Night Dream”. I met the friendly giant in his great hall, commented on the tartan apples emerging from the rainbow walls and then practiced a sword dance in a earthenware flowerpot before coming home in the handbag of a Venusian cat woman.

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