There was an area of the puddle that only our hero understood. The other frogs could swim around and see the sites, but only our hero was truly at home there. Sometimes she would swim there daily; sometimes a week would pass before she decided to pay that particular neighborhood a visit. She had a few enemies there, or rather frogs she respectfully disagreed with and simply agreed to disagree with. All in all, it was a nice area of the puddle to get to know. There were frogs of all ethnicities and backgrounds, and our hero made some friends and connections she is glad to have made.
She would tell tales of that far-off neighborhood to her friends, being their bridge into that world, one that they never planned to enter.
A particular frog in our hero’s life was heavily involved in many of the same things as she was. This frog was a tremendous fellow. He was quite bright, and excelled at almost everything he did. (Anything he did poorly was generally ignored. He thought he was never wrong). This frog would laugh at our hero’s interest in this neighborhood, saying it was for dry frogs, those who did not have friends to splash around with. Our hero opted for selective hearing, and ignored him at such times when he would make fun of her froggy friends from the ‘hood.
One day, this frog developed an interest in the neighborhood. He started taking walks there and engaging with the locals. Soon enough, he started keeping track of who were his friends vs. our hero’s friends. This upset our hero; her safe haven had been taken away from her. Her friend was oblivious to this; he was too busy talking about his cool new friends, people he had scoffed at a few months ago.
