Back to my studio; which is swaying in the breeze atop a wisp of grass. I keep an eye out for insects the size of double decker buses – three always come at once. Most of my time is spent drawing eyes; which stare back at me with synchronised blinking. I put down my paint brush and it becomes a crab scurrying away into the corner of the room.
I then went out into the magical garden to make a bed of step ladders; tall ones at the back and short ones in the middle.
When I come back I notice goal posts in the living room. The cage birds were wearing scarves.
I spent most of the day in the igloo that had suddenly emerged at the top of the garden. I installed an ice television with icicle aerial and then steamed up the window.
While playing on a cold floor, a string quartet emerged from the fridge wearing bikinis and played among poles. The plants I was dancing with eventually became wallflowers.
During the evening I moved cans of pickled specimens like pawns in a chess game. I threw the dice and lost.
I went through the magic mirror today and ended up having tea in a chandelier. The rest of the party could be seen in bubbles that floated across the room followed by noises which had escaped from the zoo next door. I knew the zoo when it was a bronze age earthworks.
I left by flying up the chimney with a chimpanzee on my back. When we parted it continued skywards to become an airline pilot and I fell to earth and dug the garden.
I returned in the evening to living in a goldfish bowl – where everyone could blow bubbles except me.
A very busy day in the factory that doesn’t make anything. The rooms look like bad hair with myriads of beams sticking out at all angles. Escalators and moving pavements occupied all the free space so the only place to have a tea break was floating in mid air. Luckily I had spare wings in my rucksack. I kept hold of my tea but dropped the cup. I had to take the moving road in the afternoon to receive my medicine.
I came home to find my wife wearing the dog as a hat. I clapped my hands and she gave me a bone.
The morning was spent as an ocean liner; hundreds of people scuttled about on my decks. I heard the voices in the deep and saw the hands that emerge from clouds – some would shake hands with me and some would shake hands with each other. I escaped the iceberg by pretending to be a hot bath.
Later in the day I had to stand on a plinth and move in slow motion. All round me people moved as fast as they could. I stuck out my hand and won a prize.
I spent the day hanging from ropes; some were connected to bells others became elephant tails and I could balance houses on my head. In the jungle pictures became sounds and I constructed a symphony from jigsaw pieces.
During the evening I went down a tunnel and heard a heart beat. I played the drums in a subterranean rock group before finding the light. Unfortunately the light came from a solitary match which went out as soon as I approached it. I turned on a torch and pushed it down my trousers.
A day I could spend in any book I wished. I chose (as I always do) the art book. Poppy Dog had overnight grown long legs which were four or five metres long. I had to use a ladder to pat her. We played games around a wigwam in the American North West. In an orb hanging from the sky I could still view the flowers of my childhood.
While jumping on a trampoline built into my studio floor I invented a form of arithmetic which only uses noughts. This simplifies calculations – an important consideration when your head is continually hitting the ceiling.
While in the garden I built a hut for invisible animals – I am wondering now how I will know when it is being used.
When I opened the front door I was bowled over by a steam roller; my flattened body was subsequently stretched and used as a drum skin for a local military band. I didn’t feel sorry for myself, only for the foot long earthworms which were used as drum sticks. To my relief they were rescued by the blackbird police. I then took my imagination pill and dreamed up my escape.
When I got home, jumping clouds across four continents to get there, I found the dog chasing dust motes (I had thought it would have married the sofa). I pulled a rabbit out of hat and it played a tune.
In the evening I was inside a walking glass case, my arms protruding from pre-cut holes.
Out in the waving tube lands during the morning. Full of squirming tentacles that can suck you in. I avoided most of the temptations such as voices emanating from trees and smiling faces in lakes – although I did tie my shoe laces using magic string.
When I got home I worked alone. Poppy mutated into an armchair and sat on herself.
I watched flowers within flowers while June threw paper darts at her memories.
The world moved in slow motion all day. I was slowest of all, each step took several hours and each hand shake took longer still. Flowers fossilised in my grasp and by the end of the day, the pile of stones hadn’t grown an inch.
The afternoon was spent as a laughing cavalier; helping people made from bottles to their glass car.
I went to bed as a flower pot man; I dug a hole and planted myself.