As the tide ebbs and flows, so do our conversations. Ever tried beard-braiding a sea serpent? Let's just say it involves a lot of seaweed and questionable toolkits.
"Look," said the ocean, waving its hands (literally), "the truth is vast and occasionally smells of fish."
Why don't skeletons ever pay the sea a visit? Because they always end up in some port skeleton joking about how their ships seem to have a bone to pick with them.
"Immerse yourself," the waves chant, "but if you must trot, at least trot with gills.
A crab once disclosed to me its morning routine. Spoiler alert: It involves less sanding and sauntering than you'd think and more pinching than is socially allowed at kiddie pools.
I asked the itinerary-scribbling gull why it flies so far for sushi. The reply? "Ever tried an all-you-can-eat buffet over a sand dune? Limited choices aren't a dietary philosophy; it's just called 'stuck in the shallows.'