Imagine That!

 

Emily is an imaginary cat and is the world's greatest philosopher. She is imaginary, I imagined her. She is the world’s greatest philosopher, I decided that. But who am I? 

My name is Harriet and I have a great vision. In my vision I imagine Emily a bright scarlet cat, who has a brain as big as an elephant, but then Emily is a big cat. In fact, Emily doesn't look like a cat at all. Indeed Emily isn't a cat she's a bright scarlet train (toot, toot) with no brain at all.

 

I imagine Emily, the scarlet train, with no brain at all, chugging along, with a driver in the engine working the controls. The driver is called Brenda, she is a big, jolly lady who has ears that flap about like jelly. Her friends call her "Big Bren", but I prefer "Old jelly ears" myself.

 Inside Emily, the scarlet train, I imagine two passengers.

 The first passenger is a little man. He is wearing a custard coloured suit, and shirt and socks and tie; his hair is custard coloured as is his face except for his nose. His nose is two hundred and forty three and half feet long, but is only a tenth of an inch thick and very pliable, which is quite handy as he can wrap it round his neck like a scarf. Unfortunately he can't do any tricks with his nose, but perhaps that's just as well. Oh by the way his nose is blue coloured.

 

The man's name is Herbert, and the only other thing I know about him is that the only food he eats is custard - look - he's eating a bowl full now.

 The other woman is a medium sized, middle-aged lady. She is wearing a sober suit, a sober pair of shoes, socks and hat. Everything about this lady is sober, but she is not. In fact she has been drinking quite a lot (disgusting). In her right hand she holds what she calls a "cat basket", it is really, of course, a portable cage. Inside the portable cage is a portable cat. The lady talks to the cat now and then, saying things like "Who’s a nice pussy cat (hic)", or "not long (hic) now". The cat is seething, hopping mad. Being the world's greatest philosopher she naturally resents being put in a cage by a drunken lady who says silly things.

 

The cat's name is Emily, an imaginary cat.

The lady's name is Harriet, the imaginary me.

   

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© Paul Blackburn 1982