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Once upon a time, there was a little stone on the bottom of the Atlantic Ocean. He has been sitting there for a few centuries, watching all kinds of fish swimming over him, feeling the water move around him. He just sat there without any movements, like little stones on the bottom of the ocean are supposed to. But he was looking around, every day, looking at the big blue world. Looking every day, at the big, blue, empty world. Because, he's the only little stone on the bottom of the ocean for as far as he can see. 'Why aren't there any more stones like me?' he often wonders. 'Am I the only one of my kind?'

One day, he saw a fish swimming over him. He gathered every last bit of his courage to say something, because fish are terrifying looking creatures. 'Mister fish,' he whispered, 'excuse me, but have you seen any more little stones like me, somewhere?' The fish swam further without noticing him. 'hmm,' he thought, 'maybe he didn't hear me.' He drew a big breath. 'Mister fish? Hello, can you hear me?' The fish stopped and looked around. 'yay, he heard me,' the little stone happily thought, and was just going to ask the fish about the other stones when he suddenly turned again and swam away. 'No, mister fish! Don't go!' the little stone yelled, 'I have something i want to ask you,' he said, softer. 'No one can hear me,' he sniffs.

Thus the little stone remains on the bottom of the Atlantic Ocean, sitting and doing nothing like stones are supposed to do.