"I think the turtle just nodded," she said, adjusting her sunglasses.
His voice was barely a whisper over the lapping waves, "Do we really need shoes when we fly?"
The water seemed to giggle, "Sure, tomorrow, when clocks unwind."
She blinked, "Was that a philosophical wave?"
"Everything becomes clear under the moonlight's touch," he replied, soaking in the audacity of a sun's secret.