Monday, March 27, 2017
You Are Not the Father
I met my mentor in an arid town's empty parking lot.
It was my turn to be eaten by the frogs, said he.
He tried to prep me for a while, musing for a few moments as to whether or not he could spare me from the most difficult part of it, which was related to the digestion, wherein I would be transformed into a non-human being.
I ended up just taking a deep breath, getting in a prayer position on the ground, and letting the frogs consume me. First small frogs, about the size of my fists, began to fasten their mouths to me; then larger frogs, the size of bulldogs; finally, one giant frog, the size of a compact automobile, came and gobbled me up along with all the frogs that were attached to me. I digested in his stomach for a while and eventually came out the other side, dark brown, slimy, and hairless.
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