"Time goes by so quickly," people often say to me. I often say 'my trout'. There's a need to make a quick getaway every time I say it. The last time I said it I bumped into Deirdre while I was making my getaway. That's when I realised that she was made out of flowers. I helped put her back together again. I prayed for a speedy completion of Deirdre while passers-by re-assembled the flowers. If I'm being honest, I was really praying that I wouldn't be caught. You'd be surprised by how many people chase me every time I say 'my trout'.
   When Deirdre was completed she looked at her reflection in a shop window and she re-arranged some of the flowers. I think her mind must have been affected by what had just happened to her, because she seemed to think that we were on our honeymoon. I played along because a wife was as good a disguise as a fake beard. To prevent myself from inadvertently saying the words 'my trout' to her I kept talking about my blisters. "It was a fine summer day and the countryside was buzzing with life," stories about my blisters would begin. "My blisters were beginning to get some attention from the local press..."
   We walked through city streets. She listened to me for hours, until it was evening in the city and the streets were quiet. I ran out of stories about my blisters. We walked in silence, in the shadows of buildings. It was a lonely feeling. I started to wish that I was being chased. Just to break the silence I said, "Do you mind if I scratch my head?"
   "Not at all," she said.
   I'd never have asked that question if I'd suspected that I'd end up having to scratch my head. I put a lot of thought into where I'd scratch. I've always enjoyed scratching the back of my head, but I do that every night as I have my cup of tea before I go to bed. If I had done it when I was with Deirdre it would have ruined my cup of tea. After a lot of consideration I decided to scratch the centre of my forehead. I had never scratched there before, and it was surprisingly pleasant. I became engrossed in the scratching. I was vaguely aware that Deirdre was speaking, but I didn't pay any attention to what she was saying. I don't know how long this went on for. When she stopped talking I realised that her final words were 'when they start lobbing penguins at you'.
   I stopped scratching. I tried to figure out what she could have said before these words. As I was engrossed in this I was vaguely aware that she was talking again. When she stopped I realised that her final words were 'heavy, heavy horse'. I found this surprisingly pleasant, every bit as enjoyable as scratching my forehead. I scratched my forehead again, just to see if it would add to my enjoyment, and it did. Ever since then I've spent a lot of time scratching my forehead while not listening to most of what Deirdre says. I think we're still on our honeymoon, but I haven't asked her about this in case it makes her stop talking to me.