Raquel

Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Harold Slowpace, although my friends just call me ‘Harold’. This may not be a biography of importance as such it is that of Barack Obama but hey, it's still a way to pass down a legacy, although I only recommend this course of action if you are unable to have kids. A I guess you figured out already, I don’t have any children, and now; in my 20th year of living, I can say that it was a fair price to pay.

You see, I was a wild young man, I went from pond to pond, meeting the prettiest turtlesses that anyone could ever dream of (if that’s your thing), made the bestest of friends and the meanest of foes. I was praised in my hometown, Small Stank, as a hero due to the free lifestyle that I chose to live. However, despite my rowdy lifestyle, I was the calmest of folks. I enjoyed reading, thinking and most of all, conversing. Not about scratch-the-surface stuff, but about meaningful topics. Unlucky for me, growing up in a small town of honest townspeople, one never did find much conversation of such. Mainly, folk talked about the news forecasts, as our pond was really susceptible to floods; and about how tortoises were “damned” as my old man would say. However, in one of my odysseys across the small acre or so of pond cities, all connected by mud roads, I met Raquel.

Where do I begin, She was not only as astounding as a firework but she was also an intellectual one. You see, I was somewhat (although it was really subtle) of a big headed individual myself, so when she came into my life spilling bottomless pints of fascinating facts and offering me the conversations I had longed for years, I fell for her as hard as a boulder. I found myself quitting my old lifestyle and starting to settle down, although not quite. I say settle down but it wasn’t in the literal sense. Raquel was a fidget bump, as bad of a case as can be. So we would not stay more than a few months in a pond. I had encountered my Holy Grail.

Remember how I told you that my hometown was really susceptible to floodings? Well, we were staying in my hometown for a few days as we were passing by towards the adjacent town Murky Wata, when it started raining cats and dogs, a fierce torrential as you will ever witness. I was able to escape our residence (My mom's unused apartment at the time) but Raquel got trapped underneath a branch of the bush that we called home for a while. Her shell was too soft due to a condition that she had and...well...she passed away as the branches pierced through her soft body.

Now, I’m an old man, I have lived an empty life that I have many times thought of quitting. I am too much of a coward to do so, still. I was lucky to be adopted out of the pond by the owner of the ranch’s daughter and I have been really comfortable since, especially with my old age problems. However, on days like this, when the sky tints grey and the clouds cry, I remember a Turtle I was once able to, proudly, claim as ‘mine’ and all the conversations and joy she brought into my meaningless life. I am old now, but I remember her as fervently as the day I met her, my true, only and last love, Raquel.