I got up with the head of a spider monkey and the tail of a raccoon; June remained in bed talking of redecorating the zoo. After a breakfast of old pictures I walked the dog along the sharpened edge of a razor, painted a clown’s face black and then went to lunch with myself and June. We both ate minutes instead of food before being served a meal of ball bearings and brake fluid. I came home to sew badges onto flying carpets while June stayed in town garlanding shopping malls with conversation. She came home eventually as the contents of a hypodermic syringe; being injected into the living room (which was wearing Boer War camouflaged stockings and green vegetables freshly grown in the Crimea). I saluted like a Great Western Railway signal and poured boiling hot tea from a ball point pen.