I’m not sure,” she said. “There’s no one answer to that. You have to
find your own way. Sometimes I try to erase myself. I imagine a big
pink soft soap eraser, and it’s going back and forth, back and forth,
and it starts down at my toes, back and forth, back and forth, and
there they go-poof!-my toes are gone. And then my feet. And then my
ankles. But that’s the easy part. The hard part is erasing my senses-my
eyes, my ears, my nose, my tongue. And last to go is my brain. My
thoughts, memories, all the voices inside my head. That’s the hardest,
erasing my thoughts.” She chuckled faintly. “My pumpkin. And then, if
I’ve done a good job, I’m erased. I’m gone. I’m nothing. And then the
world is free to flow into me like water into an empty bowl.

Autore: Jerry Spinelli