My Diary: Holding A Windmill As The World Spins Round

June had to work.‭ ‬I accompanied her up the spider silk road as rumour had it Saint Patrick was about with his snakes.‭ ‬The plastic hatted miller stood with a gaping mouth at the gaping entrance of the mill‭ ‬-‭ ‬a sign on the door offered coins for the empty mouths of Ancient Greeks.‭ ‬I later stood in the garden like a tall tree while all the small shrubs busied themselves about the place‭ (‬I had long given up the idea of there being a little copse where everyone held hands‭)‬.‭ ‬While waiting for the snow people to fall I sat in my shuttle cock studio throwing paper doilies into the air.‭ ‬Once the plastic hatted crocodile had closed its mouth June and I went out,‭ ‬our heads replaced by alarm clocks‭ (‬hers went off before mine‭)‬.‭ ‬I was hoping for a house made from cheese but had to make do with an acorn bungalow.


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