I fell into the jungle straight from my bed. Steam was rising and marching like toy soldiers. While hanging from a liana I moved small parts of the Earth’s crust and arranged them into a message on the flat plain that grows as the ice sheets return.
The small cut on my finger grew so large a river ran in it to the sea. I made a log canoe using a Bunsen burner left over from a chemistry lesson in my childhood. I hated my school, which was situated in a perpetual war zone – when ever peace was declared it would generate giant wheels and move.
Next door we have the teenage Mafia. I am the misfit everyone seeks.
I called today Janus; although we were not really on first name terms. I walked by looking over my shoulder and progressed by doing two things at the same time.
It was a busy day and I moved so fast I was only visible by the scorch marks that appeared on the carpet. Smoke came from my ears and I resolved to meditate. The monk that lives inside a small piece of furniture in the corner of the room burnt all his old letters so I could never read them. He doesn’t realise I already have!
I called to Godzilla and the sea parted. Moses sat in his chariot and played by himself.
Today was a day to hang from ropes. I found one that I felt a special empathy for and hung for ages. So long in fact that all the people round me mutated into a new species.
I made a life size replica of Stonehenge on the shop floor and made a druid cry. I gave the High Priestess a keepsake. While I was doing this Caesar came up behind us and burnt his bridge.
A comet streaked across the ceiling while I went to sleep inside a torch. I knew I would be switched on later.
I spent the first part of the morning hanging from a giant globe which was suspended from a white cloud (I escaped with wings on my heels). Consequently I was late getting into the rat trap I call a studio but I was soon busy when I got there. I dug a series of big and small holes and called it art before falling down the largest and inadvertently discovering an entirely new race of human.
It took me several hours to get back to the surface; most of the time spent in a complex greeting ritual that involved tying and untying each other’s shoe laces. Once home I took the dog for a walk over a rainbow, rescued my wife from a prehistoric beast disguised as a railway engine and swum in a pool the size of a thimble.
Tomorrow I cease to be a human being and become a zip on a large pair of trousers for a couple of days.
Water came through the colander over the house (supported by elephants it is said) most of the day. I spent a large part of it in the snake hole which I have turned into a studio. I milk the snakes every day for their venom.
While it was wet outside it was a monsoon in my room. I white water rafted across the carpet with a stream of mythical people trailing behind. Once passed the waterfall I pulled the wishing well out of my pocket and had some lunch. This was carried on a gigantic Irish elk whose antlers were a car park width across.
At the end of the day I put Wisdom back into the old biscuit tin which I keep on top of the chest of drawers.
A good day in my studio, which I had hidden in a balaclava. I had been dealt four very good hands so I made the most of it and bought four universes – three of them in parallel. I could enter them in turn by flicking a switch hidden in my reading glasses.
I had to spend a few hours as the court jester in the evening; seeing how many bottles I could balance on my head. I cheated by putting a table there first. Interestingly, it had a painting on it’s underside – it looked like four werewolves pursuing an artist. The artist pulled a paint brush out of it pocket and shot them.
I pulled a silver candlestick out of mine and illuminated the mirror.
A quiet river like day, meandering towards the dark shape on the horizon. This hid a complex series of caves which represented the evening. Most of the day I raised a sail on a brush and followed Theseus – although he has lost my respect after what he did to my best friend Ariadne.
I arranged different kinds of moss and other trinkets around the milk bottle top nest and then sat down on my own among golden eggs. Some of the eggs made strange ticking noises and the man next door suspected they were bombs – although it is possible glittering jewels (on short stumpy legs) may break out.
Someone lit a match in my head and thought bubbles rose up – as I don’t speak to myself they contained symbols.