I started the day composed entirely of sand and anxiously watching the tide coming in. The figures the other side of several sets of doors were composed almost entirely of light - I knew they were there by the sound they made. June waved to what may have been only a reflection and I went out into the garden to be a dog perpetually trying to catch its own tail. I pictured a civilisation crumbling to dust and raised my hands against the unthinking weight of the atmosphere. A neighbour looked out of his window with falcons as eyes - I wondered if they had been fed before coming in as a photocopied replica of myself. The kitchen table had been replaced by a giant hand and I foretold its future with an unwashed pot and pan.