Friday, September 09, 2011

Thousand: Four Hundred Ninety-Six

would touch her tongue to his. “Never,” she said, coldly, then reflected. “Touching tongues. Does that break an enchantment? I mean, suppose you were really a handsome prince who’d accidentally offended some thin-skinned fairy and she turned you into a toad. (‘Frog,’ said the frog.) Would you turn back into a handsome prince after the tongue thing?” “Let’s find out,” said the frog. “That might be worth doing something disgusting, I guess,” the girl said, nodding soberly. She patted the grass at her side. “Climb out here next to me. I’m not going to lean over that slimy old water.


Elisabeth said...

Slimy water and touching tongues, they seem to be connected in some strange unfathomable way. Thanks Glenn.

Glenn Ingersoll said...

I read a pop science book in which the author asked a biologist what a human cell would look like if it were the size of the snow globe paper weight on the biologist's desk. The biologist replied, "Snot."

Life likes slime & stickiness.