DAISY
Daisy sat alone on the coral-colored beach and absentmindedly stuck a twig into the
sandy soil at her feet. She dug her toes further into the grit and watched the tiny
stick’s shadow turn around it. Is that what time is? she thought. Shadows turning?
Is it true that hours pass into days and years?
“I wonder if I’m getting older. Or maybe younger.” she said to a passing beetle.
“I’d say you’re perfect just as you are,” replied the insect.
“Why, thank you very much. You’re pretty cool yourself.” Daisy smiled at the bug
as he scurried on about his business. “Je t’aime, mon petit ami.”
Daisy had ceased to think anything was odd or out of the ordinary here in Tausi.
Talking beetles, speaking French or Swahili, earthquakes and talking peacocks were
all part of her life. The only
