The ocean

Once upon a gloaming time, among the loam and shards of parchment bark, beneath green needles, cathedral-tall and corralled by walls of ligneous posts, a small thing went unnoticed. It was going to the ocean.

It had been made to sleep away the daylight hours, but now it moved by day, because night was when the burning eyes slid between the trees. Day was clamoursome and filled with strange sights, strange things sending shivers across its dirty fur, but on it went regardless: it was going to the ocean.

It dipped a toe, in the end, and turned for home.

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