My Diary: Finding A Temporal Portal In The Cupboard Under The Stairs

I opened the sachet and climbed out‭ (‬checking my Best Before Date as I did so‭)‬,‭ ‬June was still downstairs surrounded by a fence of knitting as she prepared her walking about lunch.‭ ‬We came together and then parted again‭ (‬like dentures in a bedside cup‭); ‬I went out advertising a bed and breakfast vacancy in my back pocket while she went up the road cutting the day into almost identical lengths‭ ‬-‭ ‬there was one short piece left,‭ ‬which as usual I eventually got‭! ‬Fast forward and the dog patrolled the dark side of the moon and I sat in the sun unravelling my ideas and then getting them entangled again‭; ‬we went indoors when June came home in the mouth of a pelican and straight away wrote something in her address book that can only be read by people with Seville oranges for eyes.


My Diary: Imagine A Man And Woman Made Of Flowers

I woke in the centre of a bright orange rose.‭ ‬June had been up some time and was smelling a pink stain on the curtain covering the garden window when I fluttered to the ground like a rubber band powered toy from an inexpensive set of Christmas crackers‭ (‬I usually get a small plastic comb and a differently coloured paper hat to everyone else‭)‬.‭ ‬While feeding a line of open mouths that had replaced the tuning pegs of my classical guitar I imagined a face hidden behind a cloud and thought for the briefest moment that if the world had been created rather than evolved there would be clues left for us to find.‭ ‬June banged the door and then said goodbye while I grew to over thirty feet tall and planted my balconies with a variety of attractive summer flowering annuals.

My Diary: Holding On With A Harpsichord Smile

I donned a suit and tie and then scrambled about in the mud by the garden pond,‭ ‬picking up each lily leaf in turn as if it was a telephone‭ ‬-‭ ‬the last caller hung up on me when I pronounced my name in a regional dialect of modern day Orangutan.‭ ‬Immediately after this a tree in our neighbour’s garden surprisingly stated that unborn children hide inside atomic nuclei and blasted off on the latest space mission.‭ ‬In a terrestrial response I took the dog out for walk,‭ ‬coming back after she had preened herself in a clump of goosegrass‭ ‬-‭ ‬she then went to man the barricades during the Paris Commune and I signed my‭ ‬initials in reverse on the Bourdon bell of the cathedral of Notre-Dame‭ ‬-‭ ‬we met up later as twin nuclei in a parenchymal plant cell:‭ ‬thus proving once and for all that all life is one.

My Diary: An Ursa Major Headache

June went off to work‭ while I had a mechanical digger breakfast,‭ ‬feeling like butter just scraped on a piece of burnt toast.‭ ‬I trudged behind a plough in the rain pierced heat‭; ‬occasionally picking up a lump of marcasite,‭ ‬imagining it turned into an exquisite piece of jewellery and then throwing it down again.‭ ‬After my final trip I sat in my studio and tried to paint a number of coloured bands floating above my head,‭ ‬I thought I could see letters in the bands but I couldn’t make out any words‭ ‬-‭ ‬in defiance I threw myself to the floor and then drew round the shape I made.‭ ‬Knowing that June would be late home I imagined myself in a place where all knowledge is stored‭ ‬-‭ ‬finding out straight away that marcasite jewellery is actually made from iron pyrites.

My Diary: Drawing A Map And Still Getting Lost

This was a collapsed star sort of day:‭ ‬somewhere in between a revolving neutron star and a black hole‭ (‬which in my werewolf Mother Teresa story I place in Calcutta‭)‬.‭ ‬I followed the faintest of pencil lines for the merest moment in the morning before going out in the jaws of a great beast.‭ ‬My friend and I climbed out of the unblinking cockpit eye and met the old woodsman away from the woods.‭ ‬I collected holly leaves for a barefoot dance while my friend went through the dustbins:‭ ‬which had been arranged to look like the ruins of the Temple of Apollo at Delphi.‭ ‬After I had performed my dance to an audience of tree shrews we came home in the same mechanical beast as we had left‭; ‬the flag on its tail belonging to no country in particular.

My Diary: The Rear Admiral Comes To The Front Of The House

June was still in bed pretending to be an aircraft carrier during the Pacific campaign when I got up using the dog as clothes.‭ ‬I had already disguised my own carrier frame as a tropical island,‭ ‬hiding my funnels as palm trees.‭ ‬As the first saint of a new religion‭ (‬it is practised in at least five distinct dimensions simultaneously‭) ‬I threw a line to the drowning people in the still dry garden and then with a specially sharpened pencil amended the line into the silhouette of a little girl feeding birds in the park‭ ‬-‭ ‬unfortunately June and I frightened the birds as we left the house.‭ ‬We ate a meal in a printing press and then held ink stained hands as a pair of clothes rails danced to the music of the Glen Miller Big Band free falling through the Earth’s upper atmosphere.

My Diary: Walking An Alarm Clock Instead Of The Dog

Immediately after jumping out of bed‭ ‬-‭ ‬with an ancient Greek goddess not fully emerged from my forehead‭ ‬-‭ ‬I invented a form of non moving athletics‭ (‬although I still found this too tiring‭) ‬and laid on the bed while June arranged dark shadows downstairs.‭ ‬I went down with blinding lights issuing from the eyes in my hands and then found my sunglasses and my keys.‭ ‬In the mirror I noticed my beard was slowly eclipsing a sun in the constellation of Orion:‭ ‬June wants me to cut it off so she can paint a zebra crossing across my face‭ ‬-‭ ‬so far I have shut my Belisha Beacon eyes and refused.‭ ‬I took Poppy to the footplate of the World’s first transgenic steam engine and the driver cut her hair while the fire man stoked the fire.‭ ‬As the fire subsided for the day we took her for an unscenic route walk.