He returned to his flat, cleaned it, opened his mail and went then to the police. He talked to his mother and father and invented so many stories and lies to cover up for the fact he had been a frog for three months. At the end of that tiring day he didn’t know what to feel.
He sat in his sofa, in front of a plasma TV holding the Playstation remote ready to FIFA when the first feeling came to him. It was loneliness. He missed something: Lisa!
Although it was night he grabbed a Tupperware and drove back to the pond. Three months as frog got him a toll on driving skills, especially on using his hands. He parked and made 10 minutes in the dark using his cell phone to show him around. He heard a choir of frogs and was quick to pacify them.
“Hush, boys, it’s me, James!” he whispered. The frogs jumped in the water. He circled the Pond looking for the rock he used to sleep under. He found it at last and smeared his hands inside the cave. His fingers felt something soft and moist.
“I’m sorry, Lisa. You must be petrified right now, isn’t that right?”
He was as gentle as he could be. The frog girl was trying to escape those invade hands. He was afraid he’d squish her and harm her…and his tadpoles too. Finally she gave up falling in his hand. With all the care he retrieved her and laid her inside the Tupperware.
“I’ll get you home, Lisa!” he said.