I had to draw several sets of curtains before I was able to see out - I then peeled back several layers of sky. I heard June talking quite loud as two shadows moved closer together - they were joined by a third and the hot objects on the horizon went silent. June flowed up hill while I wrapped myself in odd pieces of wallpaper and had whispers for breakfast. June is sitting on someone else’s roof all week: mobbed by crows and surrounded by cats. As the sunshine spread like butter I walked on water: sweeping up bubbles and dusting waterlilies. I came in at midday wearing only a net and hid in the broom cupboard with the vacuum cleaner until I floated up hill to see June, my feet set in clouds. While she hid a Royal Mail postbox in a sleeping bag I rained on a comparatively strange garden.