June rose like the lid of a sarcophagus and sleep walked to town, reciting the nutritional analysis from the back of a packet of cream crackers as she did so. I, as dictated by my genes, carved a piece of mature Cheddar into the shape a little girl holding a dove - apparently she let it go when a star went super nova in the constellation of Orion. I then found myself caught in the slipstream of glass crystal horse as it gallop clinked by and was late climbing the gleaming teeth to my open mouth studio. I sat on the chair before it could tell jokes but progress was slow and a field of bright poppies shimmered in the pastel red distance. I imagined myself back into a childhood cornfield, talking to a family of polar bears about the problems of keeping cool on the edge of a dying sun.