We promised to tell each other everything.

There were to be no secrets between us. We

had to be completely open with each other if

we were to stay together. I said that we should

start at the beginning and take it from there.

This is how it goes:

Do you know how to juggle?

No, I don't think so.

Do you know how to catch?

Yes, of course.

How?

Well... you just do it, don't you? You keep your

eye on the ball and, at the right moment, you

hang onto it. I guess it's something you learn.

It helps not to think about it too much.

It's the same with juggling, except there's

more than one ball and you have to throw as

well as catch and keep your eye on the ball.

It's like trying to do more than one thing at the

same time. It helps not to think about anything

in particular.

A bit like driving, I suppose.

Sometimes.

Do you know how to save a life?

What do you mean?

Do you know how to keep somebody alive

who might otherwise die? Can you hold on to

somebody whose time has come, keep them

from passing over to the other side?

I don't know.

Could you stop somebody from bleeding to

death?

I think so... By applying pressure to the

wound?

Right. How about mouth-to-mouth

resuscitation? Heart massage?

Yes... Probably...

Could you prevent somebody from choking?

Or drowning? What about poisoning? What

would you do?

I dunno. I've never thought about it. Look,

what are you driving at?

There's been an accident. Perhaps it's on this

road up ahead. You're the first person on the

scene. There is a car. Two cars. A head-on

collision. Metal shrapnel and shards of glass

are scattered across the road. The two cars

face away from each other like dance

partners who have been flung apart. In the

first car, there are two people. You can see

smears of blood but no obvious source. They

seem remarkably relaxed, slumped together

as if they stopped for a quick nap and fell into

a deep slumber instead.

In the other car, there is a woman sitting

behind the wheel, seat belt on, waiting quietly.

Are you OK? Can you move? She says yes,

yes, she's fine, she loves to sit in the car on

sunny days and watch the world go by, sorry

to be such a terrible nuisance... But when you

lean in through the broken window to - what?

Reassure her? Comfort her? Hold her? Surely

it's alright to touch her now - her face

crumples and the voice takes off high and fast

no no leave me alone no nooooo...

You are alone on the desert road. The recent

paroxysm of violence has been superseded

by a drowsy calm. The trapped woman is

murmuring softly to herself. The whole scene

seems to have been dipped in a pool of clear,

molten wax which is slowly starting to solidify.

What do you do?

Send for help?

There is no help, no one to do your dirty work

I

don't

like

the

thought

of

losing

me

tight

and

promise

never

to

let

me