The Frog

A frog stares up at me from the step below. I stoop down and scoop him up into my warm hands. I feel his cold body as he adjusts to my cupped hands. He gives me a loose froggy grin and starts chirping. I admire the little happy Prince in my palm of my hand. I feel happiness bubble up in my abdomen. I stroke gently his snout and he blinks at me. Opening his mouth, his tognue darts out and sloppy kisses my index finger eight times. I giggle and pleasure tingles up my nerve endings to my wrist. I later return the tiny flirtatious Prince back to his garden of flowers to hunt for bugs. My cheeks glow in the aftermath and I sigh.