Six Leaf-Lengths, page 11 of 12

Pip sits on the flat grey stone holding the curled shell to the side of his head while Dawn lies low in the evening water below, content and teased.

In the evenings he held the shell to his ear with both arms and listened to where she lived.

You have seen one eye and a nose, said Dawn, and you listen to the rest of me through a shell.

He said it was a very good shell.