Snapshot

S

Snapshot

It was a cold night in the wintry month of May, and the sound of the glass patio door shutting was like the sound of a mass vortex closing. There was a small dark line settled upon the gray concrete and I stepped over it, my orange striped socks absorbing tangibly the dirt from the ground beneath them, in response to the tiny wriggling of the creature's head, or tail... of the creature's end. I stood in silence as I peered into the area of pure darkness in my back lawn, my dog's fluffy white tail being consumed by its eclipse. My arms were crossed and my ponytail was touching softly the middle of my back. The frogs who dwelled in the lake on