Dear S -
My piss this morning was so bright a yellow it burned my eyes. The night before I must of sleepwalked into El Dorado and eaten the city and my strong stomach acids had melted it down and I released an expensive golden jet.
I took that walk down to the canal again today. As I was walking towards the canal’s incline, there appeared this shiny orb about the size of two fists and as I walked towards it, the glare reflected off this ball by the sun was as blinding as the morning’s expulsion, and the ball was growing two parallel tufts of hair and then two ears below the tufts. Sitting on this bright old ball’s lap is an O.K. looking woman, mid-thirties, crystal cut blue eyes about as blue as the clear sky above us and the opal canal below. I took a ledge out of their way.
You’d have thought it a good day. The swans were up the bank, four of them, grooming and preening, taking turns to open their wings and show their impressive wingspan. It is not true they can break a man’s arm.
As is England’s way, the clouds choked the sun and I went home and if I was reading this out to you, I’d be shouting because the rain was powerful: hard and fast and thick. People were running for cover with their briefcases over their heads, you’d hope they were waterproof. There was this old woman with wrinkles like sand dunes, she was pushing her wheeled black bag along and had not a care in world. Her smile was menacing the way it was stuck to her face.
Anyway,
J
