Museum Dreams – Made with participants from parchment Trust and Lifesize CIC

One for Sorrow,

Two for joy.
Three for a girl.
Four for a boy.
Five for silver.
Six for gold.
Seven for a secret never to be told.

A wise old owl lived in an oak,
And the more he saw, the less he spoke.
The less he spoke, the more he heard.
Why wasn’t he a wise old bird?

Hello, Jake.

Hello.

You did very well, you know.

I’ve been there before.

Did you think so?

Yes. I think the second round went badly for you, but you did pick yourself up again. What do you think yourself?

I punched him hard… but only later.

Well, how did you feel?

Validated.

A little punch-drunk?

The crowd was amazed you were still standing towards the end. Did you see that girl in the front row? She loved you.

So you made it again. And again.

But how many times can someone do that? Maybe I just need to break out of this ring… somehow.

Ch..ch..ch..ch..ch..ch

Today is the 15th of October, 1941.
This is the last word… or perhaps the first.

Ladies and gentlemen, there appears to be a problem.

What on earth is going on?

We will soon be arriving… at Bo Peep station.

Ch..ch..ch..ch..ch..ch

We may have taken the wrong track. We were meant to be arriving in Bexhill… but it looks a bit different.

Choo-choo. Choo-choo.

Golly gosh! I see a poster for a music concert there on the platform.
But the date says October 2025.

That can’t be right.

The people waiting on the platform look terribly strange.

Please remember to take care when leaving the train.
Thank you for travelling with us.
We hope you have enjoyed your journey, and we look forward to seeing you again in the future.

—

Oh! I have a big stomach.

So I need plenty of fish to eat.

We also need to eat. And if we put our little stomachs together as one, it would be the size of your big stomach.

Hey! We can’t allow them to eat us. We need to protest.

Perhaps I could share the fish with you, seagulls.

Oh really? You think you’re going to sacrifice some of the fish? You said you had a big stomach.

Hey! They are not listening to us!

Fish! Quick! Start a fish revolution!

I can sacrifice some fish, because I dance a lot.
And when I dance in the street, it takes my mind off food.

Okay. That’s a deal.

The seagulls now have a deal with Mr Fishy.

Agreed.

Us fish now have our protest banners made of seaweed, ready to march.
A fish revolution!

And Mr Fishy… is dancing in the street.