My Whole Expanse I Cannot See…

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Archive for March 1st, 2011

A maybe story

March 01st, 2011 | Category: Writing

I’m maybe going to finish this story.

There was once, many years ago, this turtle named, Kurt. Kurt was very slow, and very melancholy. He was the slowest, most melancholy turtle in all of Turtleeville. Turtleville being the largest settlement of turtle-folk for a thousand miles in any direction.

The story goes that a group of turtles, just ten friends, five ladies and five fellows, decided they’d leave home and walk to The Edge of the World. They were, of course, mocked, as no such place could possibly exist. Every turtle knew that the world went on forever, forever and ever. These ten turtles, however, insisted that, if they just walked long enough, and far enough, they’d reach the much laughed at, Edge of the World.

So, they said their goodbyes, some called them the stupidest turtle-folk ever to be hatched, others called them whimsical adventurers, brave enough to follow their hearts, and with such chatter at their backs, they walked. They walked for what felt like a century, they lost count of how many starry night-skies they slept underneath, and how many orangey sunrises they woke to. They just walked, and walked, and kept walking, determined to prove that they were whimsically brave, not stupid.

Being turtles, nothing particularly exciting happened, as nothing particularly exciting ever happens to turtle-folk. They just walked, and walked, and walked a little more. I say a little, not because they did, at very long last, reach the Edge of the World, but rather, they just stopped walking. One day, they stopped to graze on the green grass under the shade of a majestic oak tree, the largest, most magnificent oak they’d ever laid eyes on. After their lunch, which was delicious, they went for a drink from a nearby lazy river, the slowest river with the clearest water they’d ever so seen. This river was so clear, the turtles could plainly see, and have conversation with, the river’s resident fish.

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