Pataphor - Memoir

Whenever Brad and I go on walks these days, we pass a strange shape in the street. It nearly blends in with the asphalt. But if you stop, and look closely, and observe the way the shadows fall from its flattened form, you realize that it is a big frog.

One leg is splayed out while the other follows the parallel of its spine. It looks like it is dancing without moving, dancing in 2 dimensions.

There is something so quiet about standing in the middle of the empty street, the sun beating down mercilessly, baking your skin, the wind disturbing the conservative trees, and the rest of life moving on, rotating with the planet in cold space. And here is the dead frog, flat as a piece of paper, so quiet and so crushing.

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