My Diary: Dust Settles On A Wrought Iron Octopus Playing A Lyre

June left the house inside an upright vacuum cleaner‭ (‬I am told it can be used wet as well as dry‭) ‬moments after I had finally disentangled myself from the dream I had been having during much of the night:‭ ‬like in all my dreams I point but cannot touch and when I open my mouth to speak no sound comes out.‭ ‬Curiously I worked in a composite shop selling imitation excaliburs to pretend King Arthurs‭ ‬-‭ ‬all the while being conscious that the corridor behind the counter led to the living room of my late grandmother’s house.‭ ‬June had to show carpets how to be vacuumed and then went to town like a piece of driftwood slowly progressing up the shore.‭ ‬She rung me when her shopping bag was full and the wood,‭ ‬looking like a praying nun in a burning cornfield,‭ ‬had finally settled.

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