I flew. Over the hills and meadows, a rolling roundabout or merry-go-round. Just the four of us. Me, you, Pinky and Perky. We saw an old man dressed as a scarecrow. He told us he was the king of love. I said “what are you really?”. He said “A king of something. Or a scarecrow. … Continue reading It was most enjoyable so I quit.
Only joking my name is actually Katie and I'm sitting at Mungo's laptop, typing away whilst he makes me honey and lemon tea. What larks! Time to make some food, that's what makes the world go round.
15th September 1066 I've started a new diary. A bit about who I am in case I forget: I am Mungo Mungo, Norwegian duke of Trondelag. (There's supposed to be a line through the “o” in Trondelag but I'm not going to put that in there.) Five and twenty years old, married. My coat of … Continue reading Time and Mungo: Volume I: 15th September 1066 – 9th January 1077
The following is a stream-of-consciousness blog. It's going to be highly fictionalised and I don't know where it's going. If this interests you for some reason then read on. I call it sodastream because I like the imagery of bubbles rising through falling water. Not because it has anything to do with Isreal and the … Continue reading Soda Stream
Anyway, my mouth. You feel the top of my mouth? The ridge that runs from somewhere in the middle to a little further down than that is growing. My head is going to fall apart and Doctor who will have to fix me. He's made for America. Consumption umption. I wanted to keep writing so … Continue reading My mouth