They lived on a rock. They didn't know if it was a big rock or a small rock. They didn't know if it was flat or pointy. They didn't know what kind of rock it was.

There were a lot of other people around them who were not living on the rock. The people didn't know what was going on. They looked at the people. They pretended the people were confused about which way to walk.

Sometimes they thought it was windy. It wasn't windy. They didn't know what was going on.

They slept for a long time on the rock. They felt love for each other. They kept sleeping. Then they couldn't sleep any more because of being rested. It was a very calm thing to not sleep from being rested. They thought about the word "tranquil." They couldn't stop thinking about it; it felt good just to think about that word.

Then the people were gone. They knew the people had been skeptical about their rock. They loved their rock. They were happy about the way things had gone. They knew it would be sad for the people all alone. They wrote a lot of letters to the people telling them they weren't alone. Some of the letters said, "Rocks are naturally occurring aggregates of minerals. Rocks are cyclical. They have lots of cycles. They can't hurt you."

Some of the letters had light-hearted jokes about "sticks and stones." The jokes were maybe in "poor taste." They knew it would be hard to tell what everyone's reaction was. The people maybe didn't even need the letters, they thought. The people maybe kicked a little at the letters. They knew this is what was happening.

They wanted to check the mail. They were too calm to go anywhere; they felt like it was probably a long way to the mailbox; they felt like it was still "up in the air" if the people would feel like writing back; it was a "long shot," they thought.

They started writing letters to each other. Some of the letters said, "Rocks are geologically important. Rocks make the world go round-on the inside, where it's most important to go round." They looked at each other and felt like they were "going round on the inside." They knew this was an important feeling to have. They knew it meant a lot about the way they were living.

They knew they were happy on the rock. They knew they didn't know enough about rocks to be very insightful. They knew it didn't matter. Some of the letters said, "Rocks don't matter. Atoms do." They knew at one point-some time in the past, when they were smaller-that atoms were the building blocks of matter. They knew that remembering this was important. They knew it had something to do with having a feeling about the truth-even though the real thing they were having a feeling about didn't have a truth-value; they knew it just wasn't that sort of thing.