If you look under our skin, you will find that me and Theodore are made of water and sand.
If you look under our skin, you will find that me and Theodore are made of water and sand.
I built us a house!
I built a lighthouse, for us!
I gave it a spiral staircase with 274 stairs.
I painted it white and red.
And you planted a garden.
It was a nice house and we were happy there. The sight and the sound of the water and the rocks. And when we needed food, we went to the machine and we typed .-- . / -. . . -.. / ..-. --- --- -.. And within hours a plane would fly over us and drop packages of flour and milk and cereal and fruit and we made feasts by the beacon's light. We had midnight picnics on the rocks and delighted in the sight of a ship changing course because our beacon had warned them of the dangers of this shore.
When the light flickered, we went to the machine and we typed -. . .-- / .-.. .. --. .... - And within hours a plane flew over and dropped a package surrounded by meters and meters of bubble-wrap. We rigged a pulley to the lighthouse and pulled the bulb up to the top of our tower and we threw the old bad light out into the water where it bobbed on the choppy waves before breaking in on itself.
After a time of gradual absence, the ships stopped showing themselves completely. We went to the machine and typed --.- ..- .. . - / .-- .- - . .-.
When we became hungry, we went to the machine and we typed, .-- . / -. . . -.. / ..-. --- --- -.. And several hours later, with no plane in the sky, we went back the machine and typed, .... ..- -. --. .-. -.-- After waiting days and days and days, we rowed a boat out to try to catch our own food. Our hands like visors on our foreheads, looking to the horizon for any sign of a plane coming our way. For any sign of land or light.
When the light flickered, we typed -. . . -.. / .-.. .. --. .... -
When the light went out, we typed -.. .- .-. -.-
We stood on the rocks and, binoculars around our necks, we held hands and looked to the horizon. We put the binoculars to our eyes and searched for the sign of a line between sea and sky, but what we saw was a storm, a giant cloud rolling over the water. Making rain and swallowing the horizon and, in every direction, coming straight for our home. We ran to the machine and typed . ... -.-. .- .--. .
We locked ourselves in the basement and listened to the opposite of destruction. The storm tore at the rocks and pulled away the red and white siding. It made everything into nothing. When the light split through the gaps between the boards, we pushed our way outside and stood on the last remaining rock. We held our hands to our foreheads like visors and scanned the space for a sign of a plane, for a sign of water, for a sign of anything except this rock and us. We raised up and opened our voices and sang in the only sound we knew .... --- -- .
