The toad sat in the grass and watched the road. People, animals, and cars rushed to and fro. He couldn’t match them for size or speed, but he could hop.
The toad hopped into the busy road, weaving in and out of traffic, under cars and over ditches until he landed in the pond on the other side.
The witch that cursed him said that a human consciousness wouldn’t survive in a toad’s brain, but he would get his revenge. He just had to find her.
The toad looked across the road. Maybe she was beyond that patch of grass.

“American Toad” by Greg Schechter is licensed under CC BY 2.0.

Everyday Drabbles © 2019-2026 Hugh J. O’Donnell is licensed under CC BY-NC-SA 4.0

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