Saturday, April 16, 2011

A story, a story

Some woman told me this story today. She said she heard it from a guy named Elvis. Elvis said, "Once upon a time there was this old feller who, at the age of 78, was walking out back the lee of a rocky hilltop. The sun was out and the clouds in the sky passed o'erhead as if they were breezy ghosts. Off to the side was a stream and the broken tree that fell the week before after getting struck by lightning and the muddy bank that was a refuse bin for teenagers' litter.

I think I'll make me way to the stream, thought the old man, stroking his long beard that hadn't been trimmed for ages. Yeah, to the stream, he thought. I'll sit there by the stream and dip me feet in the water while looking at the sky.

The man walked toward the water.

On his way, he heard a voice. 'Oh, kiss me! Kiss me!' said the voice. 'Please kiss me! Kiss me!'

The man stopped, looked around, and then, seeing nothing, continued on his way.

'Oh, kiss me, kiss me,' said the voice again in the same manner as before.

The man looked around. He listened. The only thing he saw was a green bullfrog.

'Oh, kiss me,' said the green bullfrog.

The man bent over. Scooped up the bullfrog with his right hand. 'A talking bullfrog,' he commented.

'Yep, that's me,' said the bullfrog. 'You see, I was once a beautiful young lady, the most beautiful in fact in the whole world. But a witch captured me, put a spell on me, and turned me into this hideous monster. And then she stored me in a shoebox for 150 years. Can you believe it? A freakin shoebox!' The bullfrog paused. 'I only just escaped.'

'I see,' said the old man.

'So if you could kiss me,' the bullfrog puckered up it's lips, 'the spell will be broken and I'll change back into a gorgeous young woman who'll marry you and make all your wildest dreams come true.'

The old man smiled. Turned and made his way toward home.

At home he set the bullfrog on the counter, went to the closet where the shoes were, and came back with a shoebox.

'What's that?' said the bullfrog. 'What are you doing? Aren't you gonna kiss me?'

'Let me tell ye something,' said the old man to the bullfrog, 'and I mean ye no disrespect by it, but at my age, honey, I'd rather have a talking frog than a fox.'

With that, the old man put the bullfrog in the shoebox. He made some coffee and smoked a cigarette. He drank his coffee and read the newspaper. He went to bed."

'

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