‘Will to nothing,’ Paul giggles, ‘I have never heard such stupidity.’ Paul holds my hand, he has tied them with a bow, and pulls me close to the tree. ‘Maybe you would think we were willing to nothing if we lost our memory.’ I watch Paul kick down a couple flowers. ‘No, memory and body.’
He skips, then I skip. He drops, I drop. We are playing a game around the tree. Together we roll in the pollen with the sweet scented bees. Then we are back running circles around the tree.
‘We will from the deep,’ Paul musters, ‘it is the part of the body deep down, I can only think to call it pink.’ I watch Paul try to catch his breath.
‘The only way to get the body is to pull it out,’ Paul scans the horizon, ‘hell, will to nothing, that is crazy. We can’t even will nothing. All we will is the body.’