Once there was a frog who went out to buy a loaf of bread at the market. When he arrived, nineteen pianos were balancing on each other which blocked all entry through the automatic doors. The legs of the piano held the doors open but each leg was so wide that it would have been impossible for the frog to fit past them. He started to croak out of tortuous desperation for the loaf not yet in his belly. He thought about his fresh batch of fly jam waiting to be spread so generously for a snack. But nothing would change if he didn’t complain he thought, so he joined the other angry frogs marching to a bumpy tune. As the day began to close and the budding blue sky seeped with orange and violet, no orchestra or pianist returned for their honky-tonk road block.

The frog decided to see if anyone was approaching from the distance and climbed that mountain of instruments. As he ascended, the focus of his attention migrated from his aching, hollow stomach to the shrinking houses, cars and roads. He sat up on the top piano and stared out at his town, not quite sure if he was looking through his own eyes or a night-vision telescope. He watched the moon and the stars and could not think of anything original or profound to say to them.

When droplets of light flowered on the  parchment sky, the frog climbed back down the tower of pianos. He jumped on the keys, reminding him of the trampolines of his youth. Finally, reaching the earth again, the frog did not glance back towards the supermarket. He went straight home and set free the flies that he had captured for his next batch of jam.


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