Grandpa’s Musty Basement
By Tony Rauch
“It’s quite easy, you see,” he said, unscrewing the lid. The jar was a slippery clean - from off the shelf that had many other jars - all lined up in rows - with other colorful, exotic critters in them, some of which I did not recognize whatsoever.
The large, bright green frog was just sitting at the bottom of the jar as patient and calm as can be, just sitting there blinking up at us. Grandpa reached in and, cupping it softly, raised it out into the misty light that trickled in from the flood lamp up on the barn outside. Flies swirled around the lamp in the unfathomably deep darkness.
Grandpa reached over to another jar and removed an eyedropper. Then he dropped a few drops of golden liquid on the frog’s head, then returned the eyedropper back to the jar on the workbench.
The frog blinked slowly in the light, sitting in the middle of Grandpa’s outstretched palm, then carefully opened its mouth. Its long, thin slit of a mouth slowly grew back, back around its eyes, further and further in a straight, skinny line, suddenly curling up at the ends. It opened its mouth, looked up to me and blinked, and said in a deep, gravelly, guttural growl, “Well hello there, Billy. . .”
- - -
Tony Rauch has three books of short stories published – “I’m right here” (spout press), “Laredo” (Eraserhead Press), “Eyeballs growing all over me . . . again” (Eraserhead Press). He has additional titles forthcoming in the next few months.
By Tony Rauch
“It’s quite easy, you see,” he said, unscrewing the lid. The jar was a slippery clean - from off the shelf that had many other jars - all lined up in rows - with other colorful, exotic critters in them, some of which I did not recognize whatsoever.
The large, bright green frog was just sitting at the bottom of the jar as patient and calm as can be, just sitting there blinking up at us. Grandpa reached in and, cupping it softly, raised it out into the misty light that trickled in from the flood lamp up on the barn outside. Flies swirled around the lamp in the unfathomably deep darkness.
Grandpa reached over to another jar and removed an eyedropper. Then he dropped a few drops of golden liquid on the frog’s head, then returned the eyedropper back to the jar on the workbench.
The frog blinked slowly in the light, sitting in the middle of Grandpa’s outstretched palm, then carefully opened its mouth. Its long, thin slit of a mouth slowly grew back, back around its eyes, further and further in a straight, skinny line, suddenly curling up at the ends. It opened its mouth, looked up to me and blinked, and said in a deep, gravelly, guttural growl, “Well hello there, Billy. . .”
- - -
Tony Rauch has three books of short stories published – “I’m right here” (spout press), “Laredo” (Eraserhead Press), “Eyeballs growing all over me . . . again” (Eraserhead Press). He has additional titles forthcoming in the next few months.
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