My Diary: My Cling Film Diary

I looked out the crumpled window as June went up the road with the crumpled door in her pocket.‭ ‬Spirits who could have been merely mathematical equations were patrolling the top of the stairs as I climbed down the gutter pipe with my plans for the day in a sack over my shoulder.‭ ‬A policeman from a children’s story ran up and touched my arm‭ ‬-‭ ‬using a character from an adult’s story I then touched his.‭ ‬I went to town in a plastic car,‭ ‬stopping to fill up on Lego bricks before coming home again in a chariot pulled by feral cats‭ ‬-‭ ‬the dog was by the gate.‭ ‬I had time to redesign the bridge spanning the space where my imagination stops before June returned from work holding a woollen figure which had began unravelling all down the road‭; ‬she called the resulting ball of wool a real person.


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