My Diary: What Happens If You Set Fire To Your Own Hat

June was still away:‭ ‬I imagined her as a sailing ship on a distant ocean and myself as a dinghy close to its home port‭ ‬-‭ ‬in reality we are just packets of potato crisps in a mixed selection bag‭ (‬hopefully neither of us are salt and vinegar‭)‬.‭ ‬It was too hot to mime to sea shanties in the garden so I worked as a stand-in for Virgil in Dante’s Inferno in the morning and as a rock thrown into the sea by Polyphemus in the afternoon‭ ‬-‭ ‬as written in the script I missed the ship but started a coral reef still visible from space.‭ ‬I met June holding a flame in the Namib desert and we cooled down in hot wax before going out for a meal with people recently emerged from suitcases in their hall.‭ ‬We all clung to the cool marble as a hot tongue licked off the remaining reliefs from the friezes on the Parthenon.

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