June and I fell out of the silver skinned UFO moments before it crashed - the pilot was spirited away by the authorities although they always denied it afterwards. I tied up its vapour trail into a goblin shaped bow and got ready to go out by bathing in an old woman’s shoe and dressing in the grass box of an indoor lawnmower. June and I followed a present trail although we still got ourselves lost. We met tall and short people and our memories embraced. I then became one with the carpet and June became one with the ceiling - eventually sliding down the wall into an easy chair and laughing as baked bean can people were knocked over by a pangolin curled up into monosyllabic ball. I have a rule to always express myself in polysyllables and strung myself up like a handmade paper decoration.