The little island seemed to float on the dark lake-waters. Trees grew on it, and a little hill rose in the middle of it. It was a mysterious island, lonely and beautiful. All the children stood and gazed at it, loving it and longing to go to it. It looked so secret – almost magic.
“Well,” said Jack at last. “What do you think? Shall we run away, and live on the secret island?”
“Yes!” whispered all the children.
Excerpt: The Secret Island, Enid Blyton
Listening to: chatter, chatter, chatter… unrelenting chatter
Doing? trying to drown it out, and considering a deserted island, somewhere, anywhere quiet…