Three Minutes with an Amphibian

Normanday #58: Ribbet.

 

Write for three minutes about…

 

…frogs.

 

Email what you wrote to woof at bright dot net by the end of the day January 13 (put “Norman Flosses Twice a Day” in the subject line). I’ll post as many of my favorite entries as I want next Monday. Include your first name (or, even better, use a pen name) and age (unless you’re tortoise-old). If you’re a published children’s or young adult writer, include a biography to be posted with your entry.

 

Here is the single entry from last week when I asked you to write for three minutes…

 

…about the secret message you found waiting for you in the flower pot in front of the used bookshop.

 

 

Ralph

The paper is damp. It last rained the day before yesterday, which means I’m late picking up the message. I can only hope the man with the purple tie hasn’t seen it first, but I know it’s a possibility. It tears as I unfold it. I have to piece it back together before I can make out the single word in waterlogged blue ink: GUPPY.

It’s worse than I feared. The mission has been compromised and I must meet my contact immediately to find out what I’m to do next. If I’m too late…

There’s no time to dwell on that now. I run into the bookshop. The bell over the door jingles. My contact looks up at me from behind the counter.

“Have you got anything new about tropical fish?” I ask.

She nods towards the back and soon we’re both crouched behind the back shelf. She hands me a coffee table and walks back to the counter. Looking over my shoulder I make sure nobody is watching as I open the book. A bookmark holds a page with a photograph of an angel fish. I gasp. This can mean only one thing. I run out of the bookshop. I must get to the bowling alley immediately.

But it’s not to be. The man with the purple tie is waiting for me on the sidewalk. A cold smile creeps across his face.

“Neon tetra,” he says.