Timing isn’t quite everything, but the timing of this pic was a happy bit of serendipity. The sun is setting here, the windows are open on a splendidly beautiful May evening, and the frogs in the back yard are tuning up for their nightly concert. Take your seats, silence your phones, and enjoy as they rattle the dishes in the cabinets and shake the picture frames on the walls. If you enjoy this tale of the tailless… hop on to more Fictioneers’ stories behind the blue frog below. As always, thanks to Rochelle Wisoff-Fields for hosting and thanks to you for hopping by.
Tap Dancing – 100 words
Amidst the dripping, dropping – Hopping. Slick green skin and white eyes shine; catch mine. Sir Froggy and his love, Croquette, serenade in harmonizing baritones by light of May’s full moon, outside my dining room.
A counterpoint of suckered toes tread a stair to greet her there beneath the ginger leaf. They dance the dance of love.
A slickened patch of bubble-specks floats atop my lily pond, their will and testament. As moonlight wanes I weigh down screen to ward away the water-raiders: snakes, raccoons, and birds.
And when the moon is dark and new, the bubbles surge. New lives emerge.