silent conversation.
“I wish I was alone like Robinson Crusoe so I can talk to myself,” Dog said, his voice a soft murmur against the symphony of the sea.
Willie the giant, his presence as comforting as the sand beneath Dog’s paws, nodded. “Your wish is granted,” he boomed, his voice resonating with the wisdom of ages.
And in that moment, the beach transformed. The ice cream stand, the book stand, even the footprints left by Billy and Mr. Potter—all vanished. Dog found himself truly alone, the sole inhabitant of his own island paradise.
He spoke to the waves, to the stars, to the spoon and fork that lay silent beside him. He spoke of dreams and wishes, of adventures past and those yet to come. And as he spoke, he realized that even in solitude, he was not alone. For the world listened—the moon, the sea, the sky—and in their listening, they whispered back. dog said to himself