June and I had a lie in curled up inside a fossilised dinosaur nest. Above us was the poignant reminders of a fight between a parent and a predator - June said that predators are parents as well but I countered by saying all life forms should be like floating clouds that mingle instead of kill. I got up quickly and dressed in a cordless telephone while waiting for my clothes to call - as usual my underwear spoke first. An imaginary stranger stood at the window looked like a sentry on Assyrian ramparts although I noticed he had a slot for personal letters. Outside a crowd was gathering - I shouted out that creativity is like jumping off an impossibly high cliff and never quite knowing if your wings will work - of course no one listened.