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| The Frog |
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The frog was admiring the colors in the sky, floating slowly in the pond. The evening sun, large and orange, was setting in a pink background. The water in the pond was slowly lapping against the body he was perched on.
This poor fisherman drifted along in isolation. No one has come looking for him yet. They may never come. This pond is but one of many hidden ponds in these lonely woods. Fishing line was here and there, wrapped around one leg and an arm. A soaked ball cap was lying in the weeds.
Earlier that morning the man came and was standing on his boat, quietly fishing, smoking his cigar, and enjoying the morning breeze.
If only the young man had not been so harsh, when the frog started singing to his mate, and thrown the rock so hard at him that he lost his balance, flailing desperately to keep from tipping the boat, but it was too late. He hit his head on the side of his boat and drowned.
From the Dead Body Series
Written in 2004Labels: Dead Body Series, macabre |
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posted by Brett @ 1:26 PM
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At 1:30 PM, March 30, 2005,
said...
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Brett,
This young man destroyed himself with his anger. Many times we destroy others with our words spoken in anger. You are right. We can overcome anger by letting God's love change us before it is too late. By the way, I love the frog idea. |
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