On my way home I stopped at the greengrocer's to buy tomatoes. When I left the shop and looked in the brown bag there wasn't a tomato in sight; it was full of semi-colons. At home I try to read a book and all the words jumble up and dare me to make sense of them. I look in the mirror to brush my hair to find my hair is sitting on top of a giant comma.
At night I dream I am proofing but I can't read any of the words. The dream changes, it becomes lighter and calmer. I'm in the church, this is more like it, I'm getting married. I turn to kiss the bride, lift the veil, only to realise I've married a full stop.
And no, I'm not going to proof this blog.
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