They walked until the light died in the sky. Until it was dark, and Donald started to hear the whispers. They pleaded out to him in languages he couldn’t understand. Except when they were in English. It was strange when you heard a shout, or a scream, in a whisper. Almost, as if it wasn’t really a person saying something at all. Not a person at all. Not a person at all. Not a person at all. Not a person saying something, didn’t I just think that, already thought that, think that, he wondered. What’s going on with me, me on with, he thought.