My Diary: Pile Of Coal In A Forest

I went out with the constellation lady to an old market town that circled the blackened sun.‭ ‬The glove puppets that poked their false heads out of very long sleeves‭ (‬winding like pavements‭) ‬called this the past.‭ ‬We ate brunch in a department store with flames issuing from my open hands.

Pile Of Coal In A Forest

Pile Of Coal In A Forest

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My Diary: A Tree Having A Thought

By a strange fluke I lived today in the early Seventeenth Century‭; ‬on a wide lawn with birds spiralling like Catholics.‭ ‬I ate off my ruff and sat for a portrait which would remain undiscovered for three hundred years‭ ‬-‭ ‬during which time my scowl was transformed into a laugh.

A Tree Having A Thought

My Diary: Two Houses In A Wood

I had to walk the sellotape path again‭; ‬slowly pulling my feet off the adhesive on each long stride.‭ ‬All the younger people,‭ ‬who these days have wings,‭ ‬flew by while reading upside down newspapers.‭ ‬Some even made hats from the paper‭ ‬-‭ ‬although I prefer to eat my chips directly off the top of my head.

Two Houses In A Wood

Two Houses In A Wood

My Diary: The Moment The Bicycle Rode The Man

I travelled down a mouse hole today.‭ ‬When I saw daylight again everyone had hands burnt out of their clothes,‭ ‬sometimes in the most inappropriate places.‭ ‬I smiled as a very large dollop of cheese dropped from a passing black cloud and covered my head‭ ‬-‭ ‬where a skyscraper hat would have traditionally been placed.

The Moment The Bicycle Rode The Man

The Moment The Bicycle Rode The Man

My Diary: Thin Strip Of Land

I had a morning in the dolls house where,‭ ‬sadly,‭ ‬every piece of furniture I sat on I broke.‭ ‬I then went through the waterfall to the water garden‭; ‬every flower replaced with a droplet of glistening liquid.‭ ‬Later I drunk my wine from an old troll’s hat.

Thin Strip Of Land

Thin Strip Of Land