“Your thighs are apple trees. Your knees are the southern breeze.”

“Your thighs are appletrees. Your knees are a southern breeze.”

“I hit your thigh!”“Oh, please. A man doesn’t need that long to recover from a knee to the thigh.”

“Never sit under a tree waiting for the apple to fall. Climb the tree, grab that apple!When it comes, never be inert and take your time, TIME TO MOVE!”

“The sky was a cold iron-grey, like the underside of a shield. A sharp breeze lifted the hems of skirts and rattled the leaves on the immature trees; a spiteful, chill wind that sought out your weakest places, the nape of your neck and your knees, and which denied you the comfort of dreaming, of retreating a little from reality.”

“He gave a dark chuckle. “But you’re not, so you had absolutely no qualms about kneeing me in the groin, right?”“I hit your thigh!”“Oh, please. A man doesn’t need that long to recover from a knee to the thigh,” he replied, his voice full of skepticism.”