My Diary

I got up,‭ ‬counting the revolutions of a large crane in a distant building site,‭ ‬by the time I had parachuted a tea bag into a gaping cup it had screwed itself into the soft earth behind what I have long called the hippopotamus buildings beside the railway line‭ (‬apparently they can be ferocious if approached‭)‬.‭ ‬I bandaged my mouth to stop the loss of words.‭ ‬They had been assembling in the parade ground of my imagination all night‭ ‬-‭ ‬although by the time the sergeant major had arrived many had deserted.‭ ‬June was downstairs trying out a new mop on the clock dial,‭ ‬however she never managed to wipe the smile off its face‭ ‬-‭ ‬as a joke aside: a painting looked at a real person and didn’t think it was a very good likeness.


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