The Dirt Field

This morning on my way to work, I was making a right turn at a busy intersection when I saw what appeared to be a frog hopping across the road in my lane. Maybe it was a toad, I don’t know. It looked amphibian and vulnerable and I was concerned, so despite being thirty minutes late already (an everyday occurrence), I made a U-turn and went back to save the frog/toad.

I made it back to the intersection and slowed down in the turn lane to make sure it really was a frog/toad, but the driver behind me became immensely irritated and started flashing his brights. He didn’t look like the type who would stop for a frog/toad; he looked more like the type who would speed up and swerve to intentionally run it over. I was intimidated, so I didn’t stop, hardly even slowed down, and cruised right back over the frog/toad who was conveniently sitting safely in the middle of the lane.

At that point, I was determined to save frog/toad, so I pulled into the shopping center about 100 yards down the road and parked as close as possible to the intersection. That meant parking my car in the middle of a bank drive-through that was open for business, but time was of the essence because a life was at risk. I got out of my car and, even though I was dressed up in a skirt and heels, I ran across the grass to the sidewalk and down to the intersection. Upon reaching the turn lane where frog/toad was waiting to be rescued, I realized that frog/toad was a crumbled leaf.