My Diary

I got up before the raindrop hit the ground, June meanwhile had got up before the cloud was actually overhead. A picture on the wall showed a face with flower blossoms for eyes and a butterfly for a mouth (the nautilus ears having been crossed out by a member of the psychedelic exam board), the mirror however showed a punctured oasis and an empty bowl. I thought I would walk across the desert in defiance but the dog wanted to retrace the steps of the man who came to the door but wouldn’t knock. I don’t like mysteries and always have to look at the floor under even the most ornamental of rugs. I then looked for the spot where the railway goes over the tunnel instead of through it. June came in much later holding a cabbage inside a butterfly chrysalis.

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