I went out as the black woolly jumper of the family, travelling at a tree sloth pace through an old person’s back garden and a young person’s front. I made a friend out of a naked mole rat and we exchanged our worst fears several hundred feet below ground level. Once I had reached daylight I crept up on a coffee shop (and ordered tea) and then flung myself home through a forest of fraying wires and the stuffing destined for a triple bed mattress. I was stalked by fragile winged dragons as I went down instead of up and up instead of straight along - where a tennis ball knocked over a row of princess dolls in a game I had actually devised myself. The train crept back in bare feet on hot sand with the sun an octopus sorting the mail in a Venusian post office.