Flash Frog

The lost dog sign was stapled to a telephone pole, one corner flapping in the wind. Don’t chase, the sign read. Will run away, witha picture of a dog—fluffy little terrier, wet muzzle—between Don’t chase and Will run away. “Perfect description of me,” the…

One afternoon at band practice, the robot picked up one of Billy’s bones and brought it to his metal polymer lips. Billy was our first trombonist—but Billy had ears. And after hearing the robot blow just a few bars, Billy knew his days of…

The year the sinkhole opened behind Marla’s house we were already halfway through the brisket and three handles of vodka, the folding tables bowing under deviled eggs sweating in paprika, the kids ricocheting between the trampoline and the inflatable pool while the dogs patrolled…