As The Fly Flies

Wittgenstein comes back, having hired a surfboard.

Can I go surfing? asks Terence.

No, says Wittgenstein. You would need proper lessons.

Have YOU had proper lessons? asks Terence.

I'm hoping to have proper lessons, says Wittgenstein. From Sweezus and Arthur.

They will have paddled out beyond the Old Bar, says Gaius.

 

Where the sharks are, says Terence.

I hope not, says Gaius.

I'll paddle out there myself, says Wittgenstein. 

It's not fair, says Terence.

If you fell off, says Gaius, you would sink to the bottom, and then what?

He'd feel like me, says Quiet-Tartus. Regretful.

No need to feel regretful, says Gaius. We're doing the best that we can.

I'm in a hole in the sand, says Quiet-Tartus. It's not the future I imagined.

Me either, says Terence. I imagined going surfing.

I imagined meeting other tree frogs, says Quiet-Tartus. Forming a gang. Improving our fitness for the competitions in Queensland.

Woo! says Terence. 

Commendable, says Gaius. That suits me, of course. 

But instead, here we are, says Quiet-Tartus.

Yes, says Terence. 

There you are! says Roo-kai, landing beside them. Good news. The Saltwater National Park is ten minutes away, as the crow flies.

Interesting that you should say as the crow flies, says Gaius.

What about as the fly flies? asks Terence.

I don't know how fast a fly flies, says Roo-kai. Alternatively, one could go in a Mazda.

A Mazda can't FLY, says Terence.

There is a road, says Roo-kai.

Let's hit the road! screams Quiet-Tartus. 

We shall, says Gaius. But the others are out on the ocean. They won't know where we are.

I'll fly out and tell them, says Roo-kai.

Tell them to watch out for sharks, says Terence.

All right, says Roo-kai.

He flies out towards the Old Bar, passing over Ludwig, who has stopped paddling and is lying face down on his surfboard

He is thinking, philosophically, of limits.