The Frog Lady, 6

Ron smelled a faint aroma. It was slight, yet powerful. He pressed his nose into the narrow space between two pickets. What was it? Not flowers. Something more earthy, murky.

He put one foot on the silvery pipe of the gas meter and vaulted over the 6 foot fence into the frog covered yard. Ron was aware of the touch of clothing on his skin, the sun on his back, the pressure of teeth against his tongue. He stepped lazily among the frog artifacts and followed the scent.

Ron peered through a screen door into a kitchen.

Please leave a comment with your first 50 words on the topic “murky.”


Author: Virginia DeBolt

Writer and teacher who writes blogs about web education, writing practice, and pop culture.

7 thoughts on “Murky”

  1. Against my better judgment, I took the cash and went to find the man at the bar. It was difficult to make my way through the crowd and murky lighting, but I found him sitting on a stool against the wall, at the darkest end of the counter.

    “A guy with curly brown hair and a goatee asked me to give this to you”, I said, proffering the roll of money. “He also has a broken leg and a nasty shiner”.

    Redskins jacket man gave me an appraising look, took the money and pulled out his cell phone.

  2. The river’s murky water frightened Alyssa. She was tense, and it was evident by the way she was sitting on the wooden seat of the dilapidated rowboat. She prayed they would make it quickly to the other side without the boat disintegrating midway into the journey.

    To make matters worse, it was overcast, and it seemed there was a storm brewing. She certainly didn’t want to get caught in the middle of that. In reality, she didn’t have any control over this whole situation since it was up to the rower to get her to the other side safe and sound. She just had to rely on his expertise and familiarity with the river.

    Suddenly, he stopped rowing and began looking around as if something had frightened him. Looking in the direction of his stare, Alyssa saw how a bask of crocodiles were circling the boat…

    1. You know it’s my rule not to comment on what people write here, but I have to say: BASK? That’s a new one on me. Thanks for teaching me a new word.

  3. The narrow London streets lit with gas-lamps, were almost invisible on a night like tonight. A very thick green fog had come down suddenly, as green and as thick as pea soup. The smell of oysters and jelled eels drifted out of an open door. I knew I was close to the river. Big Ben struck the hour with ten resounding peals. Waves rippled in the murky gloom. A terrifying scream echoed across the river. Birds took to the air and the river frogs croaked in dismay.

  4. The ground was slimmy, squishy, slippery and cold. Ooey and gooey, the air murky, pushing itself against me, crawling down my back. I crept forward, listening, not knowing what I was going to find. Did I hear something in the distance? A plea? A cry for help?

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