He entered the room, straight from our toasty bed, hair all askew, eyes rubbed within an inch of their lives, long johns pulled awkwardly to one side so that the crotch is no longer in line with the crotch.
“I’ve just had a dream about pickling apples for old people. The doctor gave me the apples in one of those string nets and I had to pickle them.”
“Oooo, how exciting for you,” said I, “one of those orange net things that oranges come in?”
“No, it was cream coloured.”
“Oh I see. Why were you pickling them?”
“So that the old people could balance their arms on them. Like a pulley system. To counter-balance their arms.”
“Oh, I see, right.”
That was how my day began……