I woke like an arrow missing the target and hitting the tree behind. After making a multiple universe out of scrap paper, spray painted to look like fallen leaves, I walked a map of the world to town. June was already there examining a graph showing temperature variations in an anthropomorphic block of ice. We both pretended to be ice people and melted when we touched. I came home inside an electric kettle while she ambled behind cleverly encased in a top of the range cooker. Once home I changed places with the cat who then spent the rest of the day writing. That evening we both caught June and the dog talking to an Eleventh Century scholar about the diagonal beams of light entering a Twelfth Century church - apparently they neatly cut the congregation into two.
My Diary: Swapping Faces With A Clock
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