the analogy is this... a little girl, wading through shallow river water, the bottom a muck of sticky yet maleable mud -- the kind that you can pull yourself from if strong enough, but it may take some doing. it won't suck you under, as in quick sand, but it can cause you stay put for a while. so the little girl, she is wading along this river with its bank on one side and a canopy of low hanging, overgrown trees on the other. it is shady, but the sun peeks through where it can.

on the bank is a picnic, people she knows, some she does not. she's collecting tiny mollusks as she goes along, oblivious to the darkening water until her step ceases to propel her forward. no matter that she struggles to free herself, she is bound to the muddy bottom. sand and mussles in her hands, she looks to the shore and sees it suddenly vacant. no one there anymore. the feast is still there, though, so she thinks her people are still close, but there's no one ... right ... there... to help her to the bank. she feels helplessly, hopelessly, alone.

how will she get to the shore?