Photo courtesy of Paul Howell (Mystery writer Betty Webb‘s husband)
Mike was already in a bad mood when he answered the phone to Eric that morning. The pair of them had quite the session the night before and he was very hung over. “What did you want?”
“I didn’t know who else to call. I find myself in need of a great deal of help. Mike, I need you to come round and get me out of this place.”
“Eric, you’re at home. What do you mean to do out of that place? What’s going on?”
“Frogs… Frogs… They’re everywhere!”
The man sighed and grabbed his shoes. “I hate myself for doing this but I am my way.” He was scratching his head the entire way to his friend’s house. Frogs? He had heard a lot of things over the years, but this was a first. When he reached the doorway, Eric was inside and waiting. “Okay, what frogs?”
“Outside. Giant frogs just watching me.”
Eric gestured to the door, separating him from his backyard. Mike walked over, but he couldn’t see anything. “Look up,” Eric mumbled.
“Dude, how high are you?” Mike asked when he saw decorative and multicoloured frogs hanging on the roof of his gazebo.
I wrote this 200 word story in response to the photo prompt for those weeks Sunday photo fiction.