On Wednesdays, Delores, from Under The Porch Light, has a meme which she calls
“Words for Wednesday”.
She puts up a selection of six words which we then use in a short story, or a poem.
I’m hopeless at poetry so I always do a story.
It’s a fun challenge…why not join in?
This week's words are:
we also have "describe a rainbow to a blind person"
Which requires a lot more thought than I am capable of today....
Here is my story:
Kirsty looked around the science lab at the other students, amazed that no one else seemed to be the slightest bit panicky at Mr Petty's surprise announcement.
Today they were going to dissect a frog.
A live frog!
Sealed jars with a frog in each were being passed along the tables with each student keeping one as the tray slid along. The frogs inside were alive, moving around, looking up at them with no idea their lives would soon be over. Smaller jars with cotton balls soaked in chloroform were also passed to each student.
Kirsty glanced around again, there were too many people suddenly, no clear path to the door. She felt boxed in and began to sweat. She didn't want to do this. She couldn't do this.
Jonno on her right whispered, "yay! a slice and dice class!"
Kirsty felt a little sick and hoped she wouldn't vomit. Wasn't this sort of thing usually kept for higher grades? Medical students who needed to know how to use a scalpel? Not for kids in year 9, surely.
She tried to flag Mr Petty's attention, but he had already turned to the blackboard to list the steps they were to take.
Step one was to drop the soaked cotton ball into the jar with the frog, then put the lid back on until the frog was asleep. Or dead.
Kirsty made up her mind. She wasn't doing this. No way. She pushed away the small jar with the cotton ball and left her frog alive.
She would fail this class and she didn't care.
Her perfect A record would be fragmented and she didn't care.
When Mr Petty turned back to the class, Kirsty was at his desk waiting for him. She held up her jar with her still alive frog, then walked out of class. Back in her home room, Kirsty packed her backpack and left the school grounds.
Her parents would be horrified and she didn't care.
"I'm not a killer," she told herself. "It's only a frog, but I'm not a killer."
On her way home, Kirsty walked along beside the grassy creek and let her frog go free.
She'd face the consequences tomorrow.
Detention maybe, possibly a change in curriculum.
A chance to choose something that didn't involve killing defenceless animals.