I was trapped in a cage suspended from a many eyed ceiling all of the day - only the myopic pattern of fields spread out below me ever changed. As evening crept out of the handkerchief box I was extremely pleased that my collection of lipstick coloured pebbles had pulled me back down to earth - Once landed I looked round in surprise at the carnival masks the toy animals were all wearing.
Monthly Archives: September 2016
My Diary: Ripples Of Insanity
A breakfast cereal box day which I shuffled about in while pretending to be the free gift - I was always a disappointment. The clockwork mechanism in my briefcase - which operated the angelic wings with RAF roundels and 20mm cannons - had failed and I was forced to stoke the fire for the only working steam brain. The great face which pushed itself through the badly marked floor was silent.
My Diary: A Flying Horse Who Isn’t Pegasus
My only full day on the beach resort orbiting Saturn the entire month. I tried to make the most of my limited time as I yoga wrestled with aerial multi-armed organisms - the hats they were wearing glowing like the aurora borealis. I was then the captain of the sinking ship that slowly disappeared in a sea of spent flower petals and faded magazine adverts.
My Diary: The Angel Rises
Out in the morning, through the portals guarded by now old ladies with computer controlled shopping trolleys. After one cup of tea I returned to the spider’s lair, having glanced back at the silver hill with it’s secret pathways in the middle of the hedge rows. I got home in time to dance on a pencil tip. When I glanced down at the map I had drawn it revealed the house where I used to live.
My Diary: Diversions
I had to go to Badger Town a little later today so I had time to tuck in my imagination which was hanging out after a morning of exercise. The afternoon sped like a crossbow bolt but the evening progressed as inexorably as a lawn mower - fifteen suns took turns to set while I saluted the shadow figure which has silently stood on the horizon since my childhood.
My Diary: Deviations
Another hay fork long morning handing out once proud possessions to anyone with enough sense to bring a bucket instead of a head. I put a cloth cap on my bucket and went out to find the horses which know everything. I found one with wings.
My Diary: Empathy
I had to get up early as the dinosaur train was already hurtling down the varicose veins cut into the curtains (when I pulled my eyes across). I shot out of a cannon and landed in a hair net once worn by Admiral Nelson. I had to stay in the fairground a relatively long time before I could go and whisper lugubrious truths to the nails driven into the Mouth Man’s walls.
My Diary: Tumbling Shapes
After pulling myself off a lady’s tiara I went out in search of the wisdom of ancient trees. I listened to the sound of blue birds - I noticed they had scraps of paper hidden in their feathers - and I saw the containers where the sighing leaves were kept. Aimless people wandered into gaping wounds in the martyred walls. In a revelatory mood I came home carrying a bag of diamonds which would metamorphose into lumps of coal when squeezed.
My Diary: Two Deviations
The morning was an ordinary museum specimen wrapped up in cellophane; however, the afternoon appeared dressed in railway signals and wearing a supernatural sheep’s head. I pulled the wardrobe of the high priest centipede out of a bag and made a landing strip for the flying saucers of the sunshine legions. I went home whistling songs I had never heard.
My Diary: Minimalist Explosion
My imagination was pulled by a team of fluffy cats as I returned the keys to the secret door. I only had time to swim in a tea cup before going out again to pin maps of the world in the large house the girls in white live in. I came home - having acquired a hat with a windmill on top - only to have to go again (this time in disguise).