Stop beating yourself up, they would always say. She had many friends, but they were forever changing and it got to her at times. When she pondered with the latest friend why another friend never came around any more, the answer was always not to beat herself up; anyone would be crazy to stop a friendship with her. And that was how it went until the latest friend wandered off and those remaining would say, well now that's crazy, forget her or him — whomever it was at the time, until the next.

One day Patty (she's the one always losing friends for unknown reasons) went for a walk by herself along the seawall, pondering the rapid flow of people in and out of her life.

It was windy and the waves sprayed at her feet in a thin swirl and it got her to thinking. She liked the first feeling of the water, but almost immediately the thinness of it started tickling her calves. She walked and walked all the way around Stanley Park. She walked and walked, and in the process moved farther from the edge and came a little too close to the bicycle path. There were too many blind corners, and trouble was bound to happen, what with the cyclists, rollerbladers, dog walkers and the absent-minded wanderers staring at the ocean or up the cliff wondering if a boulder would roll down, please.