A Frog’s Journey

One day as I banked my car along the curvature of Time and Space, I noticed a small gray object tucked near the windshield wiper.  I craned my neck and saw the object was a small gray frog. He sat braving the winds as my car traveled along the loop.

Soon I exited the loop and entered a parking lot. The parking lot at work bordered several retaining ponds and I parked there, thinking my stowaway might choose the pond for his new home. I left the frog on my car and walked into work thinking that was the end of our little adventure.

I took my first break and to my surprise the frog was still there. I came back during lunch and there he sat. I took my second break that afternoon and he hadn’t bothered to move. By quitting time, I had hoped he stayed and he had. “Hang on, little buddy, we’re goin’ home,” I said as I hopped in the car.

I figured if he made this far, he would have no problem making it back home. And he didn’t.

After dinner I walked out to see if the persistent little frog remained, but he was gone.

That night I imagined what traveling thirty miles to strange waters and back again would mean to such a little frog.

I imagined him standing in a clearing, encircled by elder frogs, his arms outstretched unfolding his miraculous tale of how an advanced machine of alien technology whisked him from his home to a place of strange smells and alien waters. Around him I saw the elder frogs puffing their long reedy pipes, listening intently. And when he finished the clearing became hushed with wonder.

Then from the back of the clearing, stood a severe looking military frog. He looked my stowaway up and down with an air of contempt and croaked, “Swamp gas!”

 

©2015 Kent Gutschke. All rights reserved.

 

 

 

 

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