An Island Can Be Dreadful For Someone

It Was A Particularly Good Evening To Begin A Book.

Smell Is Important. It Reminds A Person Of All The Things He's Been Through; It Is A Sheath Of Memories And Security.

You Can't Always Be Friendly. It's Impossible, There Isn't The Time.

I Need To Write Down My Observations. Even The Tiniest Ones; They're The Most Important.

Sophia And Grandmother Sat Down By The Shore To Discuss The Matter Further. It Was A Pretty Day, And The Sea Was Running A Long, Windless Swell. It Was On Days Just Like This--dog Days--that Boats Went Sailing Off All By Themselves. Large, Alien Objects Made Their Way In From Sea, Certain Things Sank And Others Rose, Milk Soured, And Dragonflies Danced In Desperation. Lizards Were Not Afraid. When The Moon Came Up, Red Spiders Mated On Uninhabited Skerries, Where The Rock Became An Unbroken Carpet Of Tiny, Ecstatic Spiders.