I was out all day, partly in a huge hall where the talk of yesterday still reverberated around the walls and partly in the long tunnel where car headlights behave like the eyes of spiders. I trudged back and forth with a plough in my bag and a shire horse on my shoulders while my alter-ego spent the evening in the form of a nebulous cloud growing inexorably heavier.
I was out again, the town was a bedspread disturbed by a violent sleep. I went down past Spring flowers and came back under a Summer sky of seagulls. The girl wearing a lampshade for a dress allowed me to metamorphose into a red giant as the universe continued to expand.
I walked out into the garden quite early in the day, the ground was shaped like a fallen warrior’s shield. I spent a lot of the day doing non-important things while a stone crashed to earth with my name (spelt backwards) scratched into it’s side.
The only day of this week I could rest on my slab of marble, as usual making small indentations with my bare feet. I hung my hair in a fisherman’s net as I tried to concentrate on making facial lines on the landscape that protruded through the window. I made a giant’s bed and became a dwarf.
I had to go to the dentist; this was situated in a white room right at the top of a tower of candy floss – I decided against treatment. The dental nurse pirouetted with a chain saw as I remembered the quiet man who pulled teeth and planted trees. On the way home I saw an apparition of Daniel in a hamster’s den.
I was a chess piece on the urban chess board for all day and all evening, even though the evening was an old cruise liner steaming into the distance. The distance wants to be a holiday rep and loves babies.
Another urbanised day and I hid like an artificial heart in a teddy bear. I was away from the lip shaped sauna by mid-afternoon. From then on I could become a pair of casual clothes. The evening was lit by oil lamps as I worked in the sugar cane fields disguised as a stick of seaside rock.