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George Spark-Hall

It was a late July afternoon. The temperature had not yet cooled, and its intensity raged on. The sun still hanged high in the sky, casting a warm exotic glow, the kind that makes the sensible seductive and the prudent pleasure-seeking.

The morning had been spent feeding; a daily routine that usually holds little significance, however today felt different. Perhaps it was the copious amount of lush pink Prune de France that had been consumed or maybe the salty sea air that swept through the Rangers’ Station with such determination, but a heavy cloud of love hovered low in the atmosphere.

A tortoise usually spends the afternoon sleeping or sauntering in the shade, however 060 had other ideas. Spurred on by the flutter of 023’s flirtatious eyes, he began his march onwards in search of his darling.  GVI’s persistent measuring resulted in his shell being defined as below average, but this did little to dampen his confidence.  060’s search was beginning to seem futile, morning turned to afternoon and the evening was soon approaching.  Suddenly he spotted her.  There she was below their favourite palm tree. Her sparkling eyes; her glistening shell and polished nails dazzled her suitor. To his relief she too had been in search of her one true love, 060.

They ambled towards each other with love in their eyes. Their day long search was worth it. 060’s bellowing moans echoed throughout the island. Today, the tortoise definitely won the race.

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