"I stayed there all day, wandering up and down the single street, eating supper on the beach. I watched the tide circle the rock once more, hiding the sea villages around it. The sun set into mists; the rock grew shadowed, hunched. I felt its stillness seep into my bones, felt rooted in the sand, heavy and tired, motionless. The gulls would nest in my hair; the barnacles cling to my ankles. I would sit there forever at the tide's edge, letting the sea and wind shape me, harden me, loving a rock because I had nothing else to love. The sea would be home; the rock's strength, my strength. I huddled against the dusk wind, wondering what tale I could possibly tell myself that might change the way I looked at the world. I was used to silence;I could let the winds blow through me, emptying me of all through. There was nothing else worth doing, no place else worth going. I stared into the twilight, searching for the candle ends of old tales, but nothing sparked in me, drenched the quiet coming night with fire. The wind grew dark; I heard the tide take on it hollow evening voice."
-Patricia Mckillip, "Stepping From the Shadows"