The Penguin’s Beach Day


He laid out his little towel, which was just a large patch of smooth ice he had polished up, and found a few seashells (well, icebergs that had cracked into smooth shapes) to decorate his spot. He even packed a small cooler—filled with fish, of course, for a picnic. Pippin sighed happily. He could almost taste the salty air and hear the sound of waves crashing, though all he had were the occasional gusts of wind and the soft lapping of the ice.

He lay down on his towel, closed his eyes, and imagined the sound of the ocean waves. Just as he was about to doze off and enjoy the warmth of the sun, a curious seal appeared. “What on earth are you doing, Pippin?” the seal asked, tilting its head in confusion.