The story of the frog

After a few dry and very hot days, rain came in late this afternoon. It started with a few drops falling on the iron roofs – tok tok tok. Slowly but steadily, drops take on a faster rhythm until they hit so strongly on the iron that it swallowed all the other sounds. Waterfalls running down from all the roofs. Blizzard, thunder. A dramatic scene. A few brave people still drive through the streets, most though are looking for a shelter, so do the animals. Except for the frog. While I stand in a shelter, it is dark already, earlier than usually, I observe. There is not much else to be done. Plentiful water is coming from the heaven down to earth – to the pleasure of the frog – hop hop hop. Where are you going? The frog is heading towards the street. I wonder whether it will jump down from the pavement onto the road? Hop. Yes. Be careful, frog. Every now and then a car or a motorbike comes along the street. The frog is in a dangerous situation, I think. When a motorbike driver almost crashes with a car while sidestepping from the frog. That was tight. Within seconds, the same motorbike driver returns, gets off the motorbike, catches the frog with his hands, smiles at me and jumps back on the motorbike with the frog in one hand. Happy catch of the day.

The street was definitely a dangerous adventure for the frog but not for what my first thoughts were. Frogs can be found on the menu and in markets in Laos and make up for a meal…or maybe he was just saved by the motorbike driver, brought to a safer place…only the frog knows how the next part of the story goes…

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