Eric Wiberg
'There was a little boy who had grown into a young man, then chose to live on a little island and go back to being a little boy. Even though his fingers sometimes hurt from touching things he discovered, he still yearned to touch more, to learn more. He could not leave his little island, but the world came to him in the forms of hundreds of myriad objects. Though his physical needs were met, these things fed the hungriest of his organs; his mind, which required the greatest variety of stimulation. So, if the boy could not leave, then what would arrive in his little world by sea or air? And how, if ever, would he region the world of other people, and share his own world? To understand the ending, we must start at a beginning.'
