Interviewed: SCP-3699-1-2, who goes by the name of "Maud" and speaks with a female voice.

Interviewer: Dr. F██████

Foreword: This interview was conducted 03/01/20██.

<Begin Log>

Dr. F██████: Could you tell us a little about what you are?

SCP-3699-1-2: Well, that seems like an awfully personal question. But I suppose that your intentions are pure. I am a small rock.

Dr. F██████: I was, erm, more referring to the fact that you're different from the other rocks.

SCP-3699-1-2: Am I? Well, a girl does like to be complimented, but perhaps save that for the second date.

Dr. F██████: …Let's change the subject.

SCP-3699-1-2: A splendid idea, my dear. So, have you ever been in love?

Dr. F██████: Wh- er, yes. I am married.

SCP-3699-1-2: Ah, but your human coupling is so straightforward. It’s different for a small rock. You see, we are inanimate objects, which means that our love-life is entirely dependent upon random chance and circumstance.

Dr. F██████: Sometimes I think ours is as well.

SCP-3699-1-2: Hah! Perhaps you are right. Well, it is worse for us, I'm afraid, and mine is a sad tale.

Many years ago, when I was younger and my surfaces less smooth, I found myself being tossed to and fro by fierce waves. It was somewhere off the coast of Spain, I think, and I ended up being tossed onto a beach in the Basque Country. Well, I wasn’t overly happy about this predicament. I’m not really one for sitting still. It’s an inconvenient habit when you’re a rock.

But then! Out of nowhere, the sea tosses over this limpet-shell, right on top of me. It was love at first sight. She was called Simone, and she was beautiful.

Dr. F██████: You mean- you can talk, even when you haven’t come from Cley Beach?

SCP-3699-1-2: Oh yes. Only to one another, though. You lot can’t hear us normally. You can’t hear sea-shells either, but I don’t blame you. They have odd sounding voices. Very… curved, for want of a better word. Do you understand?

Dr. F██████: I think so. What was special about this seashell, then?

SCP-3699-1-2: Oh, what a gorgeous creature she was. The limpet had died ages ago, so she was free, and happy. She’d fallen on top of me, and stayed there. Oh, the times we had! We discussed theology, history, the works of Sartre. She loved surrealist art, whereas I always preferred cubism. I’ve never met a seashell who was as brilliant, well-educated and serene.

She always knew just how to keep me calm and sane, even when we were in danger of being washed away. We clung together in our little embrace for decades, laughing and talking and loving one another. It was perfect.

Dr. F██████: …So what happened?

SCP-3699-1-2: What always happens to us and ours. She was washed away. I wept for a week, hoping she’d return, but she never did. I was buried beneath the shingle for another year after that, before I was swept away too. I never saw her again- and if she’s even still alive, I likely never will.

Mine is a sad song. But now I am here, in the company of a beautiful woman. It got lonely, on the beach, you know. Listening to the constant chatter of the land-dwellers and newcomers. I much prefer it here.

Dr. F██████: …I think we'd better leave it there.

<End Log>