I felt like an almost two dimensional copy of myself as I got up moments after June had forced the front door closed. In some stories I would be folded up and placed in a back pocket but in this one I stepped into the bath like an unused cheque being fed into a cross cut shredder (while naked in the water I could hear clothed voices outside). The hedge was grinning as I counted the heads progressing along its uneven top, they merged with bodies and I then counted rain drops. The dog and I walked each other between showers and I then settled into my “Alas poor Yorick” study to write this: however I neither knew him or Richard Tarlton, Horatio! I was thinking about designing a jacket with two pairs of arms as a joke when June came in wearing several pairs of trousers at the same time.
Gerald's Rather Strange Diary 