My Diary: The Air That We Breathe

My breakfast plate was a building sight as I pushed my spoon among second hand clothes and the fallen pillars of an ancient Greek temple.‭ ‬I had to rush to town to make a neolithic enclosure in the middle of a symphony orchestra,‭ ‬pushing aside the musicians as they attempted to tune up.‭ ‬When I attempted to erect the first round house I heard the opening bars of Walton’s first symphony issuing from my conch shell earrings.

The Air That We Breathe

The Air That We Breathe

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