After a day of being unable to speak when asked, and of being stared at, a boy and his father go to the river for some quiet time. ‘It’s just a bad speech day,’ says Dad. But the boy can’t stop thinking about all the eyes watching his lips twisting and twirling. When his father points to the river bubbling, churning, whirling and crashing, the boy finds a way to think about how he speaks. Even the river stutters. Like him. ‘I talk like a river,’ he says.