What is this slippery, croaking, squishiness I feel coming up from deep inside me?
Burp! Burp! Burp! Out leap three ugly frogs. Oh! Excuse me!
Look at them go! They leap onto the table, kick over our drinks, and stumble out of sight. Did one grab my last bite?
How embarrassing! I don’t know where those came from. My stomach certainly didn’t agree with something we had.
So where were we?
. . .
I am a slippery, squishy frog, born from your inexhaustible boiling bog of dissonance.
Chaotic energy pumping in my legs. Leap! Crash. Leap! Crash. I won’t concede to stillness. I will be free.
A snake slides up. I hop on.
Where are we going? Doesn’t matter! Let’s go!
. . .
I am a snake, bussing all willing souls into the deep and dark forest.
Leave everything behind and come home.