The name of this file is Turtle.doc.
Two young children stood by the water, watching the water trickle past them quietly rolling over flat stones, mud and branches. The water was clear and cool; it tasted fresh and delicious though they were told not to drink from the stream. Toads could be heard off in the fields, croaking, calling to the fairer sex, though with toads, it’s a toss-up as to which sex that would be. The sun was out baking the two scalps and backs as they sat by the water, lost in the stream's eddies and currents. He picked a blade of grass and each time he tore into a smaller piece he would throw it into the stream, trying to place the piece in the most turbulent part, to watch it submerge, surface and swirl as the force of the stream overpowered the will of the fragment of grass. His eyes followed the grass downstream as far as he could see and noticed something poking up the water. He could see a rock slowly moving towards the bank of the stream. A turtle!
He ran to the site of the turtle sighting and sure enough, there it was, hauling itself onto the edge of the grass shore. It’s back was a black slimy tessellation of pentagons, with light brown borders. She ran behind him, to see what the matter was and let out an extended ohhhh… as if this turtle were a metaphysical revelation of the highest order. His eyes grew mischievous, his actions dripped with purpose. He lowered himself down the bank and reached for the poor creature. The turtle looked up and instinctively drew its outlying appendages into the safety of its shell. It was used to being bothered by stray dogs and young boys. He lifted the turtle from the bank and started climbing back up. “What are you gonna do with it?” she asked tentatively. He had no set plan, no real reason for what he was doing, the young boy was driven by instinct and the small bit of social adaptation he had acquired in his short life. He offered the turtle to the young girl, tail end first, which he believed was the more polite way of doing things. She stepped back and said she didn’t want to touch it, thank you. He drew closer. She stepped backwards. Again he stepped forward and she began to turn. He had real power at this point and couldn’t conceive of anything more wonderful. A boy holding a turtle chased a girl, with no turtle, over a bridge spanning a small stream.
He ran to the site of the turtle sighting and sure enough, there it was, hauling itself onto the edge of the grass shore. It’s back was a black slimy tessellation of pentagons, with light brown borders. She ran behind him, to see what the matter was and let out an extended ohhhh… as if this turtle were a metaphysical revelation of the highest order. His eyes grew mischievous, his actions dripped with purpose. He lowered himself down the bank and reached for the poor creature. The turtle looked up and instinctively drew its outlying appendages into the safety of its shell. It was used to being bothered by stray dogs and young boys. He lifted the turtle from the bank and started climbing back up. “What are you gonna do with it?” she asked tentatively. He had no set plan, no real reason for what he was doing, the young boy was driven by instinct and the small bit of social adaptation he had acquired in his short life. He offered the turtle to the young girl, tail end first, which he believed was the more polite way of doing things. She stepped back and said she didn’t want to touch it, thank you. He drew closer. She stepped backwards. Again he stepped forward and she began to turn. He had real power at this point and couldn’t conceive of anything more wonderful. A boy holding a turtle chased a girl, with no turtle, over a bridge spanning a small stream.