Today I went to see Gilberte. Yesterday night I was employing that oracle of truth that consists of defoliating daisies and, for three consecutive times, “I love her” came out instead of “I love her not”, which I interpreted as a signal that I love her. So I left my physical body behind (not without warning him not to do anything that could get me in trouble) and, provided with a bouquet of daisies, I astrally turned up right in front of Gilberte’s door. I knocked with my knuckles and, having no answer, I knocked louder. I was about to make a final attempt using all the strength of my knuckles when at that precise moment the door slammed open and my knuckles knocked out Gilberte. If I didn’t know that she was totally crazy about me, I would have feared that, when she woke up, she would keep some grudge. And while it is true that I received several blows in my head with a rolling pin, they did not leave me completely unconscious, which allowed me to express my feelings towards her with some sort of coherence (although I remember mentioning the words “centaur” and “oxygenated”, and both in the same sentence). Apparently, she needed to cause jealousy to a certain Jacques, so she agreed to go out with me to have lunch. Although I was surprised that she made me carry a table, two chairs and a package with dinner service and food, I followed her without question to the carpenter’s workshop where Jacques worked. We put the table in the middle of the workshop and we started eating in the light of a candelabra. (A culinary tip: wood chips are not the best accompaniment for a steak.) None of the shop’s workers seemed to notice our presence. The constant shrill noise of the machinery did not allow me to get my message across to Gilberte, who only opened her mouth to eat, and when we finished, we picked up our stuff and left without saying a word. It was the most surreal dinner I’ve ever had.