What if fiction was fact?
If so, in my living room right now, there is quite a lot going on.
I am dead but I don’t know it cos I’m one of them irritating ‘doo gooders’ every damn time I’m reborn, so I can never just ‘do one’, even when I’m popped off, I hang around like a bad smell
My great grand children are the actual residents of the house on paper; I think its 2030 ish, on the Greenwich mean-time counter (mean DOES NOT mean anything but mean in this realm (7)
Barbara says it’s April 14th 1912, bless her (realm 3)
My ego’s bobbing from the pits of hell, to 2 months away from being crowned Queen, over in realm 4
Nan thinks she’s 134 years old, and bitterly remembers the Titanic, even though she was in the 6th realm with Betty when it sunk, and that can be verified by the SAS, so definitely not bollocks!
My cat ‘Mr Rurch’ is a loving example of how a girl should love a boy, kindness of realm 9. That’s the one with the saucer cars and quantum leaping time machines (lucky little bastards ;)). Unfortunately he (Rurchy) is a shape shifting pig robot and because of this, he constantly rejects my love
In this dimension, (2) my dog Shamone, who looks a lot like a cat, still has fucking cling on’s
I am blindsided by realm 8, this one is full of masked men and contains one of my many deaths and near death experiences in detail, and I’m not so keen on this one but it’s a page turning novel (cough cough) that I’m reading! God bless art!
Very soon, I am going to have to visit a very big field and scream like a crazy woman from the Moors and the Broads combined!
I can only say, thank fuck chocolate éclairs taste just as fine from dimension 1 right on through to 9! As do shoes (look just as fine as the chocolate tastes)
Thanking who-ever may exist for small mercies
Yet flicking the V’s over the big mercies!