The Frog Prince

frogg

One evening a young princess tossed around her favorite possession, a golden ball, but it fell into a deep spring.

“Well, that’s that,” said the princess before submitting to the allure of one particular lilly pad. The lilly pad seemed to have a voice that called her. The lilly pad felt like a long-held secret. Then her trance was broken by a frog’s emerging head.

The frog said, “If you want your ball, you must be my lover.”

“You dare speak to me at this moment of revelation?” she voiced, not taking into account that frogs do not generally speak, much less English and about romantic engagements. The sway of the lilly pad grew even more captivating. The pond grew bigger. The world was not growing, but she was simply shrinking. Her skin merged into a green color and her limbs and head took on a frog’s shape. She hopped onto the lilly pad as if it were a magic carpet. Where she once stood now appeared a prince with her golden ball she once prized.

Completely disappointed, the prince threw the ball into the pond and went into the forest to contemplate the existence of a life without a princess. Meanwhile, the frog princess began crafting a fine melody of croaks.