It's The Sea Sinking

It's a LINE, says Lavender.

Correct, says Ageless. And it represents something.

Something that changes, says Kobo.

It gets longer, says Lavender.

No it doesn't, says Ageless.

It did until you stopped making it, says Lavender.

That's true, says Kobo.

But remember, my cream puff, Fish and I used pencils and paper. And we were Not Talking.

You were whispering, says Kobo. At this point, what did you whisper?

I whispered that it was his turn, says Ageless.

To do what? asks Kobo.

Draw stage two, says Ageless.

How did he know what to do? asks Kobo.

He knew, says Ageless, because we had agreed beforehand.

So it wasn't a guessing game, says Kobo.

More of a task, says Ageless. The task being, to complete it.

You are talking in riddles, says Kobo. What did Fish draw?

I know! says Lavender.

We'll see, says Ageless.

He draws a wavy line in the air with his claw.

That's what I thought, says Lavender.

Meaning? asks Ageless.

I THOUGHT.  I don't know the meaning, says Lavender.

You, beloved? says Ageless.

I do not know the meaning, says Kobo. Other than the line is now wavy.

Warm, says Ageless. Care to make a guess now?

No, says Kobo. I don't want to spoil your No Talking in the Quiet Carriage game. I presume there's a third stage, and Fish drew it.

It was pointy, says Lavender.

Ageless is taken aback.

It was, arguably, pointy.

Ageless raises his claw as if tired, and makes a series of peaks in the air.

It's the sea, says Kobo.

It is, says Ageless.

I knew that, says Lavender. I went to the beach once.

More than once, says Kobo. You were born there. A tiny shell, in the shape of an auger.

A little know-all, says Ageless. Pointy.

No need to get personal, says Kobo.

What do you think of my narrative so far, my sweetness? asks Ageless.

You have the knack of extension, says Kobo.

Is that all? Ageless sinks in his own estimation.