"It's dark in here."
"Not to worry, Miria! It's meant to be dark. That's because it's a place for planning secrets."
"Yes. Dark is necessary for planning secrets. It makes the blood in the brain flow because there's nothing to see, so the brain works extra hard to think of something so secret, so clever, that it can only be shared with one person. That's what makes a secret a secret."
"You're so smart, Isaac! I'm going to try to make a secret for you. And then we can share it and it will still be a secret."
"Exactly, Miria. I can tell you my secret now, if you want to hear it."
"Yes, please, Isaac!"
"My secret is this: my name is Isaac!"
"Oh, but, Isaac, I already knew that!"
"Did you? How did you know? I guess you knew the same way that I knew my name was Isaac: I just did!"
"And the way I knew my name was Miria! Let's keep those secret, then!"
"Oh, but we can't, Miria, we need to tell people what to call us."
"But why should anyone have to call us anything? We have each other; we don't need to have anyone else."
"But what if you're standing across the street from me and I need to call to you, and I yell, 'Hey, Miria,' and you yell back, 'Yes, Isaac?' Then everyone will have heard our names, and they won't be secrets any more. No, it just won't work."
"Oh, I suppose not. I know what we can do!"
"What's that, Miria?"
"We can take a second name! One that we pick and we don't tell anyone else but each other. Isn't that a good idea?
"Miria, that's wonderful! You pick first. Tell me your second name."
"Okay. My second name is: Harvent!"
"Isn't it a good name?"
"Oh, yes, a very good name! You're Miria Harvent, and my second name will be...Dian. I'm Isaac Dian."
"Ooh, Isaac, we have our very own secret now!"
"I told you this was a good place for planning secrets."
"You're so smart, Isaac. I'm so glad we're together! Will we always be together?"
"Of course, Miria! That's how it's meant to be."
"It's also wet in here."
"I noticed that, too."
"And it's very very cramped in here."
"Not to worry, Miria. I know why it's all those things, too."
"Oh, yes, Miria. It's dark and it's wet and it's salty and cramped because it's the sort of place that makes us want to leave."
"Is that good?"
"It is if we're leaving. I think we should leave, don't you?"
"Oh, if you say so, Isaac!"
"You can go first, Miria."
"No, that's all right, Isaac, you go first! You can tell me if it's all right outside."
"All right, then! I think this is the exit; hang on, it's a bit slippery and tight--!"
The twins' mother swore her newborns' cries sounded just like words, but for a while it was dismissed as a new mother's fancies.