Flash Frog

Late for the last ferry back to the mainland and real life, heads still half jellied from the campsite’s farewell joint, we burn down open road as if pursued by maniacs, past a blur of browning pines, past black-and-yellow placards warning of deer and…

We’re drinking together at a rooftop bar when she says she’s sorry and has to go. Go where? we ask. We’re all here. The party is here. She gives an excuse that none of us will remember the next morning, although we’ll each remember…

Only about twenty percent of what I tell my children is true. There are the deliberate whoppers like Santa and his ilk. There’s the crucial yet empty promise that I can keep them safe. I also tell persuasive, exclamation-mark lies – if you keep practicing gymnastics…