“Oh, sorry,” I said. My tortoise-frame glasses flew from my nose into a volcano of papers that erupted from his arms as our shoulders collided.
“Oh it’s you,” Dr. Spencer snarled. He kneeled to gather his belongings. “Why don’t you watch where you’re going?”
Dr. Andrew drops a leopard frog into a Pyrex dish filled with cold water. He places the dish above a Bunsen burner. The frog’s cool green skin glows, an emerald in a crystal sea. Dr. Andrew sets the flame to boil. The frog leaps from the dish. Dr. Andrew returns the frog to the water and adjusts the flame to simmer. The frog drifts in the illusion of safety while the water boils.
About the Author
I write personal essays, creative non-fiction, flash fiction, and self-development articles from my home in Madison, Wisconsin.