My Diary: Feeding An Elephant In A Hamster Cage

June went to work trying to memorise the names of all the dogs once owned by Mary Queen of Scots not knowing that I had disguised myself as a traction engine and was attempting to communicate with the ghost of her Skye terrier by means of my steam whistle.‭ ‬After only part of a breakfast I had to take the pauper prince to the railway tunnel mouth to have his teeth ground,‭ ‬taking the longer but unscenic route home still trying to picture the face I should have spoken to‭ (‬knowing full well that in life you only have a finite number of chances to press your fingers on opposing sides of the same sheet of glass‭)‬.‭ ‬On my return to the house I finished my algebraic breakfast and climbed the real and imaginary stairs to my studio.‭ ‬June came home later with an uneaten sandwich and a hole in her top.

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