Singing Cheese String Fox Capacitors

I have stayed at Oriana’s place I have go to work, to present a stop motion workshop with Ellie. Walking along, I realise that I’m late, and don’t have my uniform with me. I decide to make for work and hope there’s a spare shirt I can use. Along the way I meet Rob. Everyone we pass delays us in some way. A man asks directions to the mosque, I struggle to remember and he accuses me of a lack of knowledge about his culture and its divorce customs. I remember where the mosque is and tell him which bus to catch. He becomes grateful and sad. He is to be divorced. I hug him and tell him to be strong. We walk on.

Rob has now become a letting agent, I had moved some stuff into a shared house. The last tenant had left it in a mess, and he had come round to repossess stuff. It had a garden, allotments, and tiny, jumping, mice. The rent was reasonable. Walking up the road we were stopped again, a woman who apologised for the delays. She sang her way across the road with a lamp.

We take a wrong turn, and fennec foxes bark at us warily. They become yellow blobs and play with a piece of string I’ve found. Threaded on it, like a necklace of cheese, they sing about being capacitors.

We are in a grand flat. My stuff is there. Huge bay windows and a setting sun. Apparently I have six friends who come to visit, I love it. I turn back and everything is a mess, with cheap furniture and stained carpets. There are people here to repossess it.

I am the bad tenant.

The flat becomes grand again, and lots of people in giant fiesta costumes are dancing. It is a surreal theatre piece.

I am the audience.



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