My Diary: Sentences Pressed Out Of Flesh

I got up just as the organist in the roof pushed his foot down on the pedals and simultaneously a giant nose pushed through the bespectacled brickwork to make a face.‭ ‬I went downstairs quickly in case it started to sing.‭ ‬June was dressing in the armour of Henry the Eighth and then caught a train of thought to town.‭ ‬I stayed in the station wearing chain mail and eating my breakfast with the distracted air of a mermaid in a net.‭ ‬Outside the bare torso of countryside moved and ordered another drink‭; ‬the barman threw words like felt hats,‭ ‬one landing on my head moments after I had been cast away on an island in the middle of my tea cup.‭ ‬June returned home as the sound of the anatomical conversation subsided.‭ ‬I laid down as my shadow stood up.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s