Page 175 - Flipbook-Kurt7

Gigg'in.

The waters With their throats expanded, the bull-est of the frogs pushes its head to the surface and
as expected, the first gig is thrown their way. It misses by a hair.

lay still. They They have been at it all morning. Human boys trying to impress their fathers with the
first catch. If only their years equated to ours. I am 17 years old, that means I got 110
years on you little man. And as the oldest frog in the golden pond, I am pushed as bait,
looked at to see if the gig will miss again.

each other, He must have a terrible aim. As others walk towards the pond bank, I send out a loud
wom, wom, wom. I am here, and I refuse to be bait. Their flashlights shine through the
pond, 30ft from where I poke my head. I bested those who came before you. I will best
almost you too.

pushing for My years have passed and I wait as you see who will gig this old boy this year. Come
get me if you can, and if you fail as I suspect you will, I will see you next year. I hope I
will be around to see you fail again.
one to

begin.

Acrylic on Canvas
i: 30’ by 40’
2020