I got up in the Jonah like darkness - June however put the light on. I followed a migrating herd of zebra crossings to the traffic lights countryside; a little boy in my haversack climbing a ladder - by the time I had met the valley king (previously the hillside king) he had reached the top. We talked of trees while outside the trees talked of us. Once we had reached an old holly by the hedge we both left; me travelling on a breakfast cereal box (the wheels were inside as free gifts) and him as the large hand of a pocket watch. I got in with marine flagellates as hair: June encased in a slab of butter was waiting for me to get the milk. We stopped talking when a carbon copy of the postman ambled up the path with a group of early Christians sat in the arena on his head.