PETER PANIC

My Diary - Page Three

01/07/07: In the wet garden for most of the day; here I stretched my arms up skywards so that the creeping plants could climb.  I continued to stand like a grand staircase in the pouring rain for several hours, waiting for some atavistic lady to slide down the ornate banister before falling through a hole cut into time itself.
02/07/07: I rode a pig with long spindly legs to the doormat of the town hall, where I dismounted like a pigboy in a lost continent.  My long lasso kept my trousers up.  I had to work blindfolded for three and half hours before coming home as a meteor entering the Earth's atmosphere.
03/07/07: I went to town sitting cross legged on a flower strewn mat which hovered several feet above the pavement.  When arms emerged from the earth I touched the tips of their fingers - in the dreams of my past the harvesters scythed off the arms at ground level, putting them into embroidered sacks on their backs.
04/07/07: I took the giant tongue to town, arriving there about eleven.  This is when the older elves pull the younger ones out of their pockets.  I pressed scented flowers and poured gravy onto place mats instead of plates while inventing mathematical calculations - all of which proved to be wrong.  I walked home on stilts with a flying cup and saucer overhead.
05/07/07: I was up so early this morning that I accidentally discovered I habitually spent my deep sleep in the engine room of a ocean liner.  I dreamt of painting red hearts on the funnel and later realised my ambition of being the first eskimo in the rainforest.   I came back from the jungle with a herd of animals in my jeans.
06/07/07: I hung an exhibition of stains and other dirty marks today; I had to dangle like a gibbon and drink tea (with an infinitely long straw) from an orbiting space station.  The rockets fired from my burning hair were piloted by glove puppets that sang ancient ballads when hands were pushed inside.
07/07/07: It was a tiring day which I filled like a bag of confetti.  For much of the time I was the gecko god firmly attached to the shop wall - my eyes flashing like pound signs.  In the evening the "ultra-men" pulled out useless information from a drawer in my side.
08/07/07: I went back to the sunshine of my youth for a short while and spent the day how I pleased.  Juno, my wife, was out in the morning holding a giant mouth apart as I jostled with plastic ornaments and pulled rope ladders out of wellington boots.  She came in at noon with another person's tonsils in a jar.
09/07/07: My wife and I had planned an expedition to a lost continent but ended up staying in our lost home.  I washed the long strands of wild animal hair that randomly covered the lush vegetation of the imaginary garden.  My clone, who is married to somebody else, scrubbed acres of flesh to remove the thorns.
10/07/07: My shadow and I went out to watch the sea draw lines on the sloping front.  I pretended not to notice the thousands of strangely staring eyes protruding from the crumbling masonry.  It was only when they blinked that we both thought of food, unfortunately the tide was out and we couldn't find any.
11/07/07: After a brief trip to town to buy pebbles for our long pockets, June and I went out for a picnic.  Poppy pulled a chariot full of archers round the perimeter of the Roman amphitheatre as I scrambled out of a rabbit hole and went to search for Goliath - I finally found him in David's pocket.
12/07/07: I went out in the very early mist to the place where the tall masts of ships would rise above it.  I discovered mathematical equations while gardening in the rain.  Once home I drew the short straw and went out for a long walk
13/07/07: I walked the walls of a medieval city wearing a hat that came down to my knees.  As the day progressed I spoke to statues while my wife struggled through tunnels of cloth.  We came back riding bareback on metal maggots - hers was called Achilles and mine was called Hector.
14/07/07: I came out of the sad mists of time to take the jester's road to town.  An assemblage of total strangers cut the day into manageable slices as "Pixie-head" (my name not hers) hovered at least six inches above the ground.  I was just about to proclaim the apotheosis of time when a coconut fell on my own head.
15/07/07: I emerged from the bowels of the bedroom later than planned (some time in the 25th Century).  During the main part of the day I had to struggle with alligators while rain clouds dressed as morris men danced overhead.  In the middle of the last act a previously unknown character entered holding a wrist watch.
16/07/07: A long day which was stretched like sellotape across brown paper - the chorus line had to tear the tape from their mouths before they could sing their well known songs.  I pulled a thought bubble from the top of my head and kneaded it into a rough map of the Isle of Wight.
17/07/07: I fluttered my wings early while hanging in a clear plastic bag from the bedroom ceiling.  I then returned to writing secret messages on the back of postage stamps - which came as some relief.  Later, I walked at least half a mile with an old fashioned galvanised bath hanging like the Sword of Damocles over the top of my head.  It was only when I touched the door handle that it inverted.
18/07/07: When I looked in the mirror to comb my hair I was mildly surprised to see three of me, one of which being only four feet high.  I thought it was a shame there wasn't two of my small self as they would have made a nice cruet set.  I shook the mechanical spiders off the top of my head and the mirror transformed into the image of a hero of D-Day.
19/07/07: I opened the curtains at ten to eight, just in time to see Diomedes throw his spear at Ares, I closed them again and waited for the petals to fall.  I worked in my rabbit cage all day, clothed as it was in coloured silks and buzzing with the remembered voices of my past.  I professed my love as the day sailed away.
20/07/07: Today did not go as the Victorian school room of children in my head thought it would.  I planned to go out very early in the morning but I was surprised to discover that it was raining so hard the water had condensed into glass containers holding extinct snakes pickled in vinegar.  Consequently, I  grabbed as many containers as possible, wore a lampshade as a hat and spent the day inside drawing lines inside lines.
21/07/07: I went to town before nine, simultaneously as myself and also in a disembodied state akin to a hypothetical Boltzmann Brain.  It was a long day as the only people allowed through the temple gate had to profess their intense love of two-dimensionality.  Despite this I had time in the evening to tie myself in knots and then pretend to be boy scout when I undid them again.
22/07/07: I had a completely free day (most of my days are quite expensive!) so I used the opportunity to repopulate the moat with the salt water crocodiles I found in my cereal packet.  I also spent some valuable time learning ballet in the glass igloo where I continue to keep my boyhood collection of safety pins.
23/07/07: I went to the board game countryside before walking to non-tinsel town in the rain.  I was the ring master when the lion lady came in to complain about the letter she had just addressed to herself.  Later, the clown boy seemed to be very concerned about his still nascent relationship with the goddess called Semi-Circe.
24/07/07: I started the day with the strong belief I was a slug that had eaten his own lettuce during the night.  I pulled in my tentacles, which, unbeknown to me, my wife had been using as clothes airers, and took an Ancient Egyptian boat to town.  I called the boat Hilda and held a young swan in my arms.
25/07/07: I took an early morning trip to see the volcano that spews out fish.  I threw in my money and took home my prize.  However, I didn't have time to enjoy it as I had to go to town to be an extra in the latest Godzilla film - this was the one were the monster discovers religion and the whole world is destroyed in the subsequent fireball.
26/07/07: I started the day as an honorary member of The Country Boys and we talked about our next adventures.  I felt a bit left out as my only super gift was the ability to pull a horse and cart out of one ear and a headless rider from the other.  In the evening I quietly saluted one of my true friends who had the head of a bull and claimed to have known Aubrey Beardsley.
27/07/07: A nice quiet day as the amorphous "sheep" animals slowly slid over a horizontal mirror, which I peeped into occasionally to see a joint of quorn - apparently this isn't as good for you as soya.  In the evening I felt a black blank strand (with a loud silence) stretch from my head and reach the sky.
28/07/07: The day started with me being posted through the letterbox and subsequently landing on the doormat with a loud plop.  After reading myself thoroughly I went to town pulling a camel behind me.  I crumpled up my Arabian secrets like a ball of string and gladly accepted a transparent heart when it was pushed into my shirt pocket.
29/07/07: The morning was spent under a translucent sheet which reflected the light from the multiple eyed beings that floated above my binary star system head.  I worked in the garden as long as I could before taking an even longer snake to the off licence and ordering a mint tea.  Dan came back from the seaside with his car headlamps hanging from each ear.
30/07/07: I was at home most of today; standing on the ancient parapet and walking under the shadowy arches. I diligently put small crosses on the individual ivy leaves so that they could be returned to their owners.  I had to curl up in the chair in the evening while my wife tried to fit my alternative body into a conch shell
31/07/07: Today the summer winked its eye and I wore a long boat on my shoulders pretending to be an illustrious admiral - my boat was made from the paper I wrote my memoirs on.  Apart from walking footprints to the shops and back, I was as static as a coral reef.  I continued to draw black lines around both positively and negatively charged particles.
01/08/07: A busy day with me being in several places simultaneously while being a number of different people at the same time.  I dressed as an electricity pylon and I had half decided to run for president when I discovered my shadow flirting with a sea anemone.  In a suitably tidal fashion I went to and fro suspended from a kite fabricated from protoplasmic memories.
02/08/07: I had a day out to where the great cruise liners met to eat and drink.  I was entertained by a collection of homosexual robots while, in a darkened room, people from the past cried.  Before I checked my air supply and returned to the surface I found a tiny model of a space capsule in my pocket - it had a flower inside.  I picked the flower and played myself a tune on a rusty downpipe.
03/08/07: I caught an early looper caterpillar to visit an old friend.  We had tea from an orchid and then marched up the hill and marched down again.  While breathing in the sweet country air I invented a footbridge shaped like a guitar so that all the lost rag dolls could cross the cultural ravine.  When I came home I noticed that the door frame was wearing lipstick.
04/08/07: I spent most of the day in the domain of the water sprites, where the friendly nymphs dance with walking stick men.  I panned for gold but only found a few shaved whiskers which I dutifully stuck to a stray billiard ball - I then reminisced about two steam trains called Romeo and Juliet which collided while practising a pas de deux. 
05/08/07: I was out in the garden for some time (about five strands of a temporal bandana) which for convenience I kept in a box.  In the box next to mine Ginevra lay whistling a distant melody - contrary to the popular belief she could get out any time she wanted to.  I went out in the evening pulling the remains of a giant squid behind me.
06/08/07: I had a glorious day in the tranquil lands and I could feel myself grow younger until I reached the point when my parents laughed and slaved in a Nineteen Fifties kitchen.  The small window was fully lit just before Odysseus pushed a burnt spike into it.  I came out from behind the settee with more than a hundred legs and my first dog, Tammy, had a jet pack on her back.
07/08/07: Another day in the tranquil lands (these nestle on large fluffy clouds; sometimes shaped like whales and dolphins) although there was a brief disruption when myriads of marching soldiers - in old fashioned uniforms - descended from a black disc that slowly moved across the sky when a bearded man blew his trumpet.  I blew my nose and potted an agapanthus.
08/08/07: This was the last of the truly tranquil days; where the past is the left hand of a pair of gloves.  I painted zebra crossings in the jungle and later built the first pyramid in the concrete desert - in which was buried the Action Man I never had.  While I was pulling dead soldiers out of the Nile my wife found a tadpole dancing a jig in a space time portal. 
09/08/07: After a trip in a first world war biplane I found myself in my father's garden where I walked half naked through a bed of nettles to touch the fence.  He gave me a grapefruit which I managed to lasso after a number of attempts.  The bus wasn't speaking when I caught it and when reflected in a vampire mirror was wearing a peroxide blond wig.  My friend had hurt her back so I tied a firework to the evening shift.
10/08/07: I got up quite suddenly when the bed turned into a toboggan and hit a tree at the bottom of the slope.  I felt more tired than when I went to bed but reluctantly pulled a weasel out of my hat and rode it to the local shop.  I then pushed a mast into a loaf of bread and sailed down a previously undiscovered river which I named the Esmeralda after a gypsy girl I know.  I got all the way home and then remembered I had forgotten the milk.
11/08/07: A day when I hardly stood on the ground at all, preferring to walk on scaffolding - much of which I built myself.  After a moments thought I decided to call my haversack Janus and closed my eyes while it kept guard.  Even so, I knew I was making a mistake when I prized open the King Fox's mouth so I could pull out a string of chickens.
12/08/07: The garden was a helipad hand lying languidly on the bare ground.  During the clear plastic evening I spun like an old fashioned record deck while the sitar players slowly propelled themselves into fold down boxes.  The woodpecker demigod tapped out the cleaning hours.
13/08/07: After the ritual ceremonies initiated by the druids in the wardrobe, I walked to town several inches above the ground, only touching down when the phases of the moon dictated.  I rode the biggest slug in the world around the edge of the galactic dish before throwing flower petals at the girl with a shield bug for a head.  The evening was code named violin face.
14/08/07: A bad day; even the octopus, who sits on my shoulder in lieu of a parrot, thought so.   I rather reluctantly descended the rope made from laddered tights into the medieval pits where older people wrote quotations for the young.  I should have popped in to see Alexander The Great on the way out but didn't.  I eventually came to regret this.
15/08/07: I battled with monsters from the cut throat razor dawn to the serving girl's apron dusk.  I opened the single eyes as they fell on the doormat and kept a trowel in my top pocket so I could bury the bad news.  The periscope in my top hat refused to see ships as I balanced a thirteen storey block of flats on a matchstick.  The cigarette in June's pocket recalled it's meeting with Socrates.
16/08/07: An old fashioned nice day (which I don't seem to get anymore!) - I have heard that sentence before somewhere!  First, the ancient Greek columns, each holding a lump of used chewing gum, needed dictating to.  I then dusted my collection of dinosaur footprints as the fat mouse climbed the cat clock.  Outside, Bugsy Malone took part in another fight - which he partly lost.
17/08/07: I went out very early, as ancient mariners have to.  On the way back to my yo-yo home I discussed the life style of early hominids with the anthropomorphic dawn and carried a model of the empire state building (complete with fully animated King Kong) in a supermarket shopping bag.  I came through the door with my pre-birth exam results and a wrist watch that gives the time in fourteen different languages at once.
18/08/07: I was in a Wild West town for most of the day, smiling at gunslinging baboons and hoovering the "half a horse town" saloon.  I came home quickly, holding a message from Mount Olympus for an exiled Juno.  After signalling to Road Runner I went out again to lie down in a vegetable lasagne as the candles were blown out one by one.
19/08/07: I felt today was a bit like a sandwich with a semi-sentient filling of marmite in the middle.  I paced around the bridge of an underwater helicopter for some of the time - having made a pleasant start winding lengths of tape round the mummified remains of ancient heroes.  The evening was rather disjointed and I came home as a paper handkerchief - which my wife used immediately to blow her nose.
20/08/07: A heron caught in the first shards of dawn kind of day.  I rolled about in a tin can until it was picked up by several smiling goblins.  They had parched pyramids for hats - each with something like a furry sea urchin on the end.  On the way home I was certain I saw several loaves of bread riding horses on the horizon.
21/08/07: The day split open like a nut hitting a rock, I climbed out of the space capsule to meet a prohibition gangster.  I then made wings from cricket bats and flew to town.  On arriving at the big spider's house I was surprised to see David the pirate walking his own plank.  He laughed as he showed the soap girl his dirty photos.  The plank became a lolly stick and the baby ate pizza and spaghetti shapes.
22/08/07: I held on tightly to the umbilical cord of multidimensional time as I skipped to town, the playground characters gradually disintegrating as the jigsaw pieces fell apart.  When I walked into the Nordic banqueting hall I could just about detect the remnants of yesterday's conversation.  As always in this sort of situation I pulled out an old rag doll and blew flowers into it. 
23/08/07: I went out early to see the old bearded godman who holds up the world while Hercules looks for magical oranges.  There was only a short gap - like a modest sandwich filling - between migration flights.  Later while tending the lunar llamas on the revolving space station I resolved to  find a new reptile skin to grow into.  The only one I could find was a python masquerading as a street lamp
24/08/07: I got out of bed the imaginary garden side (with luxurious perfume and layers of bird song) and then dressed as a mandrill - which is quite normal for a Friday morning. Unfortunately I soon fell into the intestinal scaffolding which holds up the theatrical scenery.  I scrambled about the nexus of pipes expecting any minute for the audience to erupt into uncontrolled laughter.  When it didn't I went to work in the church mouse mine.
25/08/07: I went to "Sky Lodge", a holiday home for tired robots, with a handful of Nashville session musicians in my pocket - I heard a number of different songs simultaneously as I searched for my keys.  It took me a little while to morph into a human vacuum cleaner while my young friends changed into mechanical canaries.  I hoovered up the seed sown by passing celebrities as the sea climbed the highest mountain just for the fun of it.
26/08/07: A day spent entirely in the garden which I secretly pulled out of, an otherwise normal, sardine can.  The sky was as high as a medieval hall as I pulled the tentacles of the kraken out of the sands of an Arabian desert. While tucking my favourite new world premonition into it's amphibious bed I dreamed my wife had gone line dancing with a gang of marsupials in a floodlit aquarium.
27/08/07: A Bank Holiday which I frittered away smearing mud on the faces of vanished warriors and listening to voices from my happier times which have always emanated from the carefully upturned flowers.  I later tied myself to a twisted trunk and watched the sun girl play tennis with the moon dog - the star cat fell asleep on the armchair dreaming of it's exam results.
28/08/07: I didn't have to go out today so remained in the house modelled on one of the moons of Jupiter; it has round windows in the craters and the remains of ancient cosmological events playing around the radio aerials.  Even though I was an old cuckoo in a forgotten clock I found time to fabricate a portrait of myself from fossilised twigs and an old pair of tights and rescue the puffball fairy from a vicious tool box ogre. 
29/08/07: When I finally squeezed myself out of bed (like toothpaste) I was surprised to find it was shaped like a giant hand.  I quickly checked to see if it was wearing a wedding ring.  There followed a fairly typical morning with centipedes doing the washing up and caterpillars walking the dog.  On the way to town I found a stray woolly rhinoceros and wasted a lot of time trying to find it's owner.  It is amazing how many cavemen live in my town.
30/08/07: I started the day in a good mood, as castles perched high in the clouds drifted by, but ended it locked in a brown study - I took a brown book off the brown shelf and pretended to read it.  The day was split in two like an open book.  After I came back from circling the rim of a silver spoon for three hours I climbed onto stilts and painted a picture of a pillar on a pillar.
31/08/07: I parachuted quite early out of our bedroom window, writing my memoirs as I floated slowly to the ground.  When I had the mandatory trip round the garden riding in a fluffy cat chariot I dreamed I was living in a cake, trying desperately to rise up through the icing. NB. I had to go out twice during the day, carrying a lighted candle each time.
01/09/07: I woke with both a start and a finish; it felt like a village, circa late Eighteen hundreds, was entagled in the wig I put on my head to keep the bed warm.  I had to go to the Saturday Town by dog sled, remembering the death of the old fireman as I did so.  I subsequently talked of birthday suits painted blue with lipstick smiling manakins and came home pulled by a team of pygmy hippos.
02/09/07: I only spent a few hours modelling natives for a Rousseau jungle scene before coming into the ice mansion to stir the radiators and stoke the fires.  I studied the wink in the single eye set in the ancient walls of the only place I feel safe in.  The armorial assemblages clanked and the stuffed jellyfishes in the serried rows of glass cases busied themselves inventing an entirely new language.  I saw the plunber and he promised to call eventually
03/09/07: I flew to the well known mole on the back of a woman laying in the cloud shine.  Stopping only to frame the butterfly wings I used for the journey, I immediately acted as an usher at the wake of one of the players in the local Ragnarok football team.  I had forgotten my dinner so I flew home by space rocket, holding tightly to the grey tabby cat I had used as an interpreter.
04/09/07: I had time to sun myself at the desert in the middle of an oasis, chatting as I did so about long lengths of pink ribbon.  An aeroplane took off in the middle of the conversation and I went and made myself a cup of tea in a cup perched on top of a tortoise.  I then felt the need to make some new clothes by sewing together lettuce leaves and partially chewed wooden planks from a  full size mock up of a Viking long boat.
05/09/07: I was out on the plain of long dead ancestors early in the day; the sun was a partially eaten sandwich.  I worked in the foyer of the Tower of Babylon until lunch time when I went home to whittle wood until the werewolves knocked on the door in the evening.  I was then the wolfman and went to the nearest Masonic lodge to learn line dancing.
06/09/07: Out in the land of echoes until the apples parachuted from the tree and the twins had made their promise.  I had to scuttle home like a formation of Roman soldiers; bursting through the door of the crusade recruitment office holding a bag of bananas.  After my term in office I retired to the road where I live so I could sweep the step.
07/09/07: An unusual day as I was the middle course in a five course meal for the first time.  I walked in a circle as I paraded with a team of seaside donkeys.  I have now forgotten their names but I remember they were fluent in at least five languages.  I came home in time to design a garden for one of the moons of Saturn.
08/09/07: 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.
09/09/07: I licked the dawn and put it in a stamp album; inviting Bugsy Malone to appear on the cover.  My life is a showboat and I had to tie the rigging to the mast before I could go out to trespass in my own garden.  Once among the girl tresses I kept my eyes open for voices.  I could hear magical children sliding down the cloud sides as I remembered lifting every sheet of metal on the railway line to try and find lizards and snakes.
10/09/07: After a morning sleeping on an outstretched birds wing I went to the paper bag palace to roll around in bran sacks; emerging with one eye attached to a periscope I looked over the dentist's wall and saw the smiling brickwork.  During the dream time I had to tie string on a variety of wooden boxes - all of which contained a surprise.
11/09/07: I managed to see the fabled white horses today, after years of trying.  Like an early explorer I saw big brown birds fly high over the forest - with the trees looking like oversized inverted beards - and I saw the bundles of stones left over from the giants battle.  The sailing boats were as small as confetti and I imagined marrying the place.  There would be a simple ceremony.
12/09/07: I was depressed as the procession of stuffed animals went by.  I hitched a lift on the back of a mastodon and rode to the glass houses of town.  The building was red hot by the time I got there and I burst into the room wearing a military uniform and holding a set of masks in my briefcase.  The sentries kept guard on top of the crenellated walls as I walked home with burning coals in my pocket.
13/09/07: I skipped across the stones set on the plastic river bed (we had a large sink but no bathroom when I was a child) to the village long house.  Once there I unwrapped myself, disentangled the laurel leaves from the live electric cables and went in search of the windows the old ladies looked out of.  I went home carrying a bust of Voltaire.
14/09/07: I felt tired as I hid under the billowing sheet covered with strange hieroglyphs that I found in the night.  I pretended to read the newspaper while secretly studying the image of myself as a very young man reflected in the mirror.  I came home as quickly as I could; trying to hide the lambs tail that was growing out of the back of my trousers.
15/09/07: I walked in both the real and imaginary doors with the aim of taking the slant out of all the letters that had suddenly appeared scrawled on the wall.  I then compared the colour of blood and charted the position of the next meteorite strike.  As predicted by Nostradamus I managed to press numbers on all the vests in a clergyman's vestry before smiling myself home.
16/09/07: June, my wife was pirouetting in a musical box from early morning (until the dinner bell rang and all the headless people sat down to a pointless lunch) so I spent the morning hanging upside down like a bat.  I planned to go outside to be a witness to the birth of a new sun but decided instead to play on my own in the dark.
17/09/07: The start of a new working week which I subtitled "Purple Haze".  I walked to town, which at the time was pretending to be the filling in a soufflé, pulling a small trolley which held all the unfulfilled aspirations of those needle like people who manage to get lost in haystacks.  I did my eleven thousand waltz movements and then sailed home.
18/09/07: I dreamt the house I was sailing on had got stuck in an ice field and I had to find an infinite number of cheese wires to attempt to free it.  I got up with the entire contents of a bee hive replacing my head.  I buzzed myself about the Non Euclidean bedrooms before taking the catapult to the high Peruvian plain where I work for a couple of hours a day.  I subsequently shot myself home again.
19/09/07: I woke while being chased by a charging rhinoceros.  In the heat of the moment I had to paint my teeth while jumping over the neighbours fence.  I raced to the Martian race track where I pulled a model of a 25th Century space city from under the skirt I was wearing as a joke.  When trudging home through the mud of World Wars I was genuinely surprised by the offer from a row of tropical birds perched on the live wire.
20/09/07: I flew out into the countryside of yesteryear; riding on a large white swan, my childhood locks blowing in the wind.  I flew over the large craters that looked like mouths and settled down among the long grass where giant rodents where finally discovering Christ.  After a quiet conversation I flew back home; over large mouths that looked like craters.
21/09/07: 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).
22/09/07: 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.
23/09/07: 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.
24/09/07: 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.
25/09/07: 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 cat on my bucket and went out to find the horses which know everything.  I found one with wings.
26/09/07: 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.
27/09/07: 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.
28/09/07: 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.
29/09/07: 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.
30/09/07: 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.