Sometimes it seems that grass is water, water becomes sky and the sky turns to grass. How can we be sure what is or isn’t with only words to navigate by? No one ever shows us the whole picture, only a part.

If you live afloat on a raft then the sea of unreason looks so beautiful in a dead flat calm. You could almost imagine, despite the barely perceptible sway of the water, that this is dry land. You are safe and supported. Look beneath and it’s all too clear that you’re adrift. There is slime and mess, a crust of barnacles and a mat of weed with a hoard of parasitic stowaways. What looks like a road is really a pier.

A life raft is no place to be in a storm but on a warm, sunny day a story, built from lies, is the truest, sweetest thing.