The Student Newspaper of The Loomis Chaffee School

The Loomis Chaffee Log

The Student Newspaper of The Loomis Chaffee School

The Loomis Chaffee Log

The Student Newspaper of The Loomis Chaffee School

The Loomis Chaffee Log

What we’re thankful for
What we’re thankful for
February 11, 2024
Prepare for cold
Prepare for cold
February 11, 2024
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Kirk the tortoise breaks free from cage and explores campus

Kirk+the+tortoise+breaks+free+from+cage+and+explores+campus

Title: Kirk Breaks Free Writer: Kirk (translated by Rachael Lantner ’25)
Staff Writer

Neon orange pellets shower my sleepy head, and I munch on my new treat eagerly. Each crunch charges my stumpy feet, and their vibrations cause my nibbles to fly across my home. Now I’m the one flying. Oh no. The air vent.
Ow.
It’s dark.
Where am I?
This is unlike anything I have ever seen – I’m not surrounded by a shiny clear wall taller than I can see; there’s no end to where I can walk.
Waddling toward the light streaming in through the cracks, I slip and tumble down the slide, into the light. I fall into a thick substance. Drool. More specifically, the drool of a furry, four-legged giant staring at me hungrily. I run. Somehow, it’s closing in on me, and I sprint to the two round rubber blocks in front of me. I duck under the metal overpass held up between these massive blocks and dodge behind the contraption. As I hope that I’m safe from the fangs, I hear voices yelling “tortoise under your scooter!”
It gets darker.
The sky is falling.
And is … brown?
And … rubber?
I dart out from under this deathly object, which I later overhear is something called a shoe.
My hiding place is rolling away from me.
I run.
Darting between a multitude of more moving contraptions and rubber brown ovals, I tumble down a concrete slope… with uniform squares cut out. What a strange shape for these giants to construct.
Thunk thunk thunk.
Ow.
Just as I think I’m safe from tumbling, these giants put another jagged ramp in. ANOTHER! One was more than enough. In the far distance, I see a gathering of statues. Most importantly, underneath, I spot an abundance of shade where I can recoup from my tumbles. After what feels like an eternity (I promise I’m fast), I come to one of their two posts – its base is somewhat like a triangle and webbed … it’s a very weird shape to pick for a post. Oh well. It provides the shade I require. Hugging my newfound resting spot, I fall asleep.
IT’S MOVING!
MY POST – IT’S MOVING. AND HONKING?!
What the heck?!
I bolt (yes, bolt. Once again, I can run extremely fast) toward the only place where I don’t see these honking devils – the water.
Oh no. I forgot I can’t swim.
ABORT!
Too late. I stumble, and fall (again). I barrel toward the water; I imagine myself sinking to my death. I am enveloped in soft feathers, safe.
NO! NOT SAFE.
I’M ON A HONKING STATUE. HELP.
I’m stuck.
Water surrounds me. It appears as though these soft, menacing, honking statues… float? Wait. The statue is rising… I’m rising. Oh no.
PUT ME DOWN!
Not again.
The moving statue stops honking… finally. The land gets smaller, and I settle down to resume my nap. My bed, made from feathers, could not be more comfortable. The calming noise of the wind rushing by us lures me to sleep. I have a crazy dream – neon orange pellets shower my head.

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