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Vaulting, snowdrops, picnics - Three Word Exercise

Updated on August 21, 2011

'Come on, it's this way,' yelled Kirsty as she cartwheeled across the top of the field, right after vaulting the waist-high dry stone wall. She continued to shout excitedly as she bunny hopped through the long grass, 'it's not far, just over this hill, you'll just die when you see it ...'. But Gemma wasn't really listening as she carefully made her way over the stile, vaguely wondering why Kirsty hadn't used it, before squatting next to the wall to take a close look at the patch of snowdrops scattered there.

Kirsty's voice drifted up from over the rise, and Gemma sighed as she stood up and saw how far away the other end of the field was. How had Kirsty managed to get there so quickly?

'Hurry up, will you?'

Gemma muttered, 'I'm coming, I'm coming. I hate walking. Why does she always make me walk?'

Kirsty bounded back up the field, grinning widely. 'It's still there, come on, come on!'

'Couldn't we have brought something to eat? I'm starving,' Gemma moaned.

'You can't bring picnics up here, I've told you, it's too steep. Just get a move on.' She disappeared over the rise again. Gemma trudged after, finally clearing the top of the hill and finding herself at the edge of a gorge. Kirsty was nimbly climbing down the rock face, smiling back up her friend. 'It's just down here.'

'Oh, great.' Gemma's stomach rumbled, and she almost turned back there and then. But her curiosity was slightly stronger than her appetite so she decided to get this little adventure out of the way. She climbed down after Kirsty fairly quickly - she preferred sitting in her window seat with a book, but that did not mean that she was useless when it came to physical activity.

She jumped down from the boulder at the bottom onto the gravelly floor of the gorge and almost trod in the thing that Kirsty had brought her to see.

'Watch it, you nearly crushed it,' Kirsty screeched, then she grinned. 'What do you think though, eh?'

Gemma's appetite disappeared as she looked down at the half rotted sheep's head crawling with maggots.

'That's erm ... great.' She smiled weakly. 'I think I'll go home now.'


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    • Lady Wordsmith profile image

      Linda Rawlinson 6 years ago from Lancaster, UK

      Perhaps not 2,000 years old - perhaps 800. Actually, I don't know how old it is. It might be 2,000.

    • Lady Wordsmith profile image

      Linda Rawlinson 6 years ago from Lancaster, UK

      Brilliant. There's nothing stuffed in our museum in Lancaster, although there is a very interesting 2,000 year old coffin complete with human hair and toenails - that would look good mounted over my fireplace.

      I think a wildebeest would certainly have added something very special to any home.

    • Twilight Lawns profile image

      Twilight Lawns 6 years ago from Norbury-sur-Mer, Surrey, England. U.K.

      I was a somewhat bizarre kid, Linda. I remember going to the museum a lot and getting to know the curator. A bit of a geeky kid, I supposes (me, not the curator) and I took it into my head that there would be nothing better in my life than to own a stuffed crocodile.

      So I asked him and asked him and asked him and eventually he took me to look at all the old stuffed crocodiles and other stuffed animals, and I chose that one.

      If it had been nowadays, I most probably would have chose a wildebeest... I love gnus.

      I wonder if that would have been more acceptable at the dinner party table.

      I don't think my Auntie Grace would have approved.

      If there was a hub in there, I think I've used it up already.

    • Lady Wordsmith profile image

      Linda Rawlinson 6 years ago from Lancaster, UK

      Well now Ian, you might be right about that, but I used to be Gemma. I became Kirsty when I was about 22. Sometimes Gemma comes back for a spell, but she never stays as long as she used to. I do have her appetite though - actually hers and Kirsty's put together.

      Just how did you persuade the curator to give you the crocodile in the first place? I'm surprised that your mother didn't allow you to keep it, I would've thought it would have been an excellent talking point at dinner parties. Surely it would have dried out eventually? Is there another hub in that story?

      @Chris - Wow! A dead badger?! Ace! We saw a real sheep's head when we were out walking last year - my kids did want to take it home, but it was very brittle and we had nothing to carry it in.

      @Hyphenbird - ha! I had eaten a couple of hours before writing, so I was alright. Yes, I love this kind of exercise, it really does help to motivate and remind a writer that they do have some words in there at the back of the mind somewhere that can be put together.


    • Hyphenbird profile image

      Brenda Barnes 6 years ago from America-Broken But Still Beautiful

      It was all great until the end, which was written perfectly. Glad I was not eating at the time. laugh

      I love to take prompts and write something from them. It is a great way to stimulate a writer's creativity.

    • christopheranton profile image

      Christopher Antony Meade 6 years ago from Gillingham Kent. United Kingdom

      I remember being brought to see a dead badger. The things we used to do when we were kids.

      Thanks for that engaging slice of life. I'm looking forward to your "exercises" now.

    • Twilight Lawns profile image

      Twilight Lawns 6 years ago from Norbury-sur-Mer, Surrey, England. U.K.

      I have a feeling that you are the Kirsty in the story, and I am decidedly the Gemma... especially when you mentioned the food. But that sheep's head! Wicked. Imagine finding something as exciting as that and not being able to share it... even with a Gemma.

      But as a child I most probably would have tried to think of a method to get it back home. Like the time i persuaded the curator at the Perth Museum to let me have a seven foot crocodile (stuffed)and I brought it home on my bicycle and wanted to have it in my bedroom.

      Three and a half miles I brought that stuffed crocodile, and my mother wouldn't even let me bring it into the house.

      Some silly reason about it smelling nasty, just because it had been raining and it had got a little bit wet on the way back.