My Diary: The Ship In A Bottle On The Mantelpiece Is Sinking

I couldn’t go into the garden,‭ ‬where I have been growing footprints in wet earth,‭ ‬because Fritz the Cat‭ ‬-‭ ‬who I pictured with a Mongol archer on his back‭ ‬-‭ ‬had hidden my shoes.‭ ‬In response I measured how far I would have to throw a shard of broken pottery before it could be classed as space junk and then wrote words on a wide range of objects jettisoned from a supposedly sinking ship.‭ ‬I arranged them into ocean wide lines and put in punctuation marks to act as life boats.‭ ‬When I had finished this I suddenly remembered that as a young child I made a house out of a hole in the ground and an up turned pram‭ ‬-‭ ‬I would lay inside wondering if ghosts suffered from wind while the large tree in the middle of the garden blew its shadow into the shape of a nun wearing black stockings and high heels.


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