"Look! It's a turtle daddy!" she said.
My gaze followed my daughter's finger.
Indeed, there was a large turtle there.
"You are right," I said from the porch swing.
She went inside as the night got cold.
I decided to stay on the porch.
I liked the cool air against my skin.
I watched the turtle a little bit.
It moved one limb and then another.
It creeped its body along slowly.
Each blade of grass bending against it.
It seemed to do breaststrokes on the ground.
It swam along the dirt making waves.
Leaving little ripples in the soil.
He lifted his head up just slightly.
I stood up and leaned on the railing.
My eyes traced the roundness of his shell.
He turned his head to look at me now.
I studied the aged form of the thing.
His eyes were filled with utter blackness.
His eyes disturbed me for some reason.
They seemed to be issuing a threat.
Like it wanted to tell me of death.
I backed away slowly to the wall.
I inched to the door, my eyes on him.
His eyes were on me, his head followed.
I felt around for the door handle.
I darted inside very quickly.
