June and I got up using the emergency chute from the crashed aircraft we had been hiding in. We both ate breakfast like flickering candles and she then combed the hair of the carpet and I put on the leaning tower of Pisa as a hat. We had been invited to sit on someone else’s dinner table and got ready in the hold of a freighter in the North Atlantic. Half way through the imaginary sea journey a man came to the door with flashing lights attached to his evolutionary primitive exoskeleton - I showed him the bulbs on my internal parts but took care not to mention that they wouldn’t shine. We held both hands at once and then collectively looked forward to a robotic saviour as we left the house together; me with the slight hesitancy of a window cleaner finding the windows didn’t have any glass in them.