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The title is pretty much self-explanatory. |
"Stupid car!" Richard kicked the ancient truck's tire – as if that would help. The only thing that could really help the old bucket was a good smack with a hammer. He slid his hands through his hair and paced a few steps from the car. In sharp contrast to his dismal predicament, the sun shone bright on the grass and lily-padded pond. Birds chirped, frogs croaked, the whole Snow-White shebang. Life was cruel. Richard went to the water's edge, and, without realizing it, dove his hand into his jacket pocket. The velvet edges of a jewelry box met his fingertips. Sighing, Richard resigned himself to the fact – he wouldn’t get to Sophia's party. Adam would never forgive him for failing to give Sophia the necklace. Because the day hadn’t been enough of a disaster. Richard sighed again. At his feet, a frog croaked. Richard blinked at the doleful thing, staring up with beady eyes. "What are you looking at, Wart?" Another croak. Richard watched its flabby neck fascinatedly as the sound erupted, then faded. He had never watched a frog in the act of croaking. Something about that made Richard snicker. "Croaking as in speaking, Wart," he told the frog. "Not dying." Wart gazed up at him, 'mournful' written all over his lumpy skin. Locating his cell phone, Richard called a tow service. Then came the dreaded report to Sophia, telling her he couldn't make the party. Relieved that that was over, he sat at the pond’s edge. Never mind the damage to his suit; he had no party to attend anymore. Richard studied the grassy area. Twilight made it blue; the trees made it green; the moon made it white. Together they made it beautiful. "You know something, Wart?" he told the frog. "Maybe life isn't that cruel." |