Your story by Victor Andres Birkner Duarte

vbirkner — 2025-08-21 19:26:23 UTC

vvbb

Valentina Arriaza, Vania Bruna, Valentina Gonzáles

vbrunal — 2025-08-22 04:17:30 UTC

This Tuesday dawn is mild, and a small turtle stirs with thrill in its heart. It has a plan: find a rare lily that many say grants bliss. Step by step, it trails damp land, tiny legs firm yet steady. Streams twist, twigs snap, yet it keeps at it, smiling within. At last, by a gleaming spring, tall stems sway, and there rests the lily, radiant, pure, still. The turtle gasps with awe, lifts it high, and beams. Birds trill in praise, skies turn warm, and waters swirl with light. With its lily prize, the turtle heads back, spirit full, glad it dared. By nightfall, tales spread: a turtle’s will may light up an entire land with bliss.

Hétr atalán, Sphia Dns, Sfía Figuera, Valentina Muñz

2025-08-22 13:36:41 UTC

GURU GURU

There was a time in The Great Barrier Reef a little turtle, he was named Guru Guru and was very green. He was 150 and was still a juvenile. This turtle had a dream since he was a child that was putting his legs in the sand, but he never dared. His friends gave him impulse and after a while he agreed. The day had arrived, it was September 11th, the year was 2021. Guru Guru, still under the sea, imagined being in land and he just smiled as he felt relieved. Finally, with the fire in his heart, when he arrived and put his legs in the sand, he didn't feel anything. He didn’t feel a single feeling, that was the instant he realized that he’d feel anything because he didn’t have any legs and he stayed there by himself until his final days…

Krishna Muñoz & Paulina Moreno

2025-08-22 16:04:13 UTC

A mild Tuesday dawn, a turtle named Lira awakens by a lake. Air is warm, sky all pink. Lira has a plan: find new trails, see far lands. Step after step, she drifts past sand, tall hay, and small ants at play. A hare yells, “Stay! Trails are hard!” Yet Lira keeps at it, never still. Up a vast hill she aims. Legs strain, yet she lifts, bit by bit. At last, the ridge is near. Rays beam, rivers glitter. The view is grand, wide, and fair. Wind swirls, birds sing. Lira feels tall, full, alive. That day, a turtle learns: faith and will may lift any tiny being, and bring a true, glad finale.

Fernanda Luco, a hard trip

2025-08-22 17:24:50 UTC

It was a mild Tuesday, and a small turtle began a difficult trip. It was frail yet steady, his feet were firm, eyes alert. All day it had a plan: seek a stream, sip fresh, gain relief.

Early, the turtle met a hare. The hare, swift and merry, asked, “Why drag in this heat?”

The turtle replied, “My aim is water, my spirit is dry.”

The hare agreed, and with light leaps, it led the way. They went past tall grass, past dry land, until at last a stream did glitter ahead.

The turtle slid in, felt a fluid swirl, felt life anew. That day, that Tuesday, stayed as a tale, a mark in time.

Luciano Díaz, Kiara Rossel, Camilo Parra, Jason Troncoso

2025-08-22 23:00:49 UTC

Last Tuesday, a tiny turtle began a daring trip, seeking a faraway lake hidden past wide fields. Dry wind swept thin grass as birds flew away fast, warning him in vain. He had a single aim: new lands, new dreams. At dusk, he arrived at a vast lane; rumbling metal beasts slid at great speed. Pulse pounding, he waited, then leapt ahead. A wheel bash — a snap, a tear, a shell split. Rain fell heavily; his tiny eyes shut. Quietness.

Then, a hand lifted him gently. A man in gray, silent as dusk, set him by a small lake nearby. He was safe. Yet the water was red — endless turtles drifted within. He had never left a trap.