My Diary: Ships Coming From Smoke On The Horizon

June and I got up,‭ ‬for once,‭ ‬together‭; ‬I had my breakfast in the tumble dryer while she sat in the fridge‭ ‬-‭ ‬coming out moments before an intercity express train hurtled through it on its way to an unknown microwave oven in London.‭ ‬Inside the carriage a robot child touched the dial of its valve radio ancestor and the train guard pulled back the still growing beard of King Henry the Eighth before it got stuck in the emergency alarm chain‭ ‬-‭ ‬the man dressed in grey put a y in a noughts and crosses game.‭ ‬As the light dimmed I plugged in a candle while watching an Eighteenth Century farmer take his livestock to market on the edge of a Twenty First Century town.‭ ‬I pushed a bouquet of flowers inside an old fashioned television and June tuned a cooking apple to the country and western channel.

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