June went to work in a chariot pulled by tabby cats. I stood in front of the mirror as Balder but saw Loki. I then pulled a small world from above my head and placed it in an auroch hoof print in the immortal garden - once a flower is planted it never fades. I told the postman I was awaiting news and then read my letters as a stream of water instead of carefully folded paper. I couldn’t help thinking that the couple next door had a carefully folded life as they sang Germanic hymns on the Scharnhorst when it sank off the Falklands during the First World War. Later, I took the cast of a production of Twelfth Night for mammal like reptiles and put them in the greenhouse as it hurriedly put on a tutu for a cold garden ballet - I had promised to watch the matinee.