A slow one

The Frog Lady, 7

The screen door was open. Ron stretched out a languorous finger and pulled. The aroma was stronger in the kitchen. He felt a strange longing to fall to the floor and do nothing but breathe in.

Marian McBride came into the kitchen. “You’re a slow one,” she said. “Did you get lost?”

She appeared huge, menacing. Ron turned to run.

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


Author: Virginia DeBolt

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

3 thoughts on “A slow one”

  1. “Hey Joe,” Redskins jacket guy said into his phone,”Bunky’s bunged up. Bring your little black bag and get over to the Frog”.

    “Okay, lady”, he said after stuffing the money and the phone into his jacket pocket, “Show me where Bunky is”.

    The injured man was still on the floor of the ladies’ room, looking a bit paler than when I left him a few minutes ago.

    Redskins jacket guy looked down at him and said, “They got you good. A bit of a slow one with that club, were ya?”

  2. Peter would bet on anything, One day Paul arrived carrying a box, I have two racers in here a fast one and a slow one. I will offer, you 100 to one on Tortoise the big slow frog and 2 to one on Hare the fast frog.
    Peter’s green, greedy eyes lit up, he put all his money on Hare the fast frog.
    Paul released the frogs and the race was on.
    Hare the fast frog leapt away in the wrong direction out of the door to freedom, while Tortoise the slow frog hopped slowly over finishing line to win.

  3. For being a young person, Emma was a slow one in learning how to navigate proficiently around computers. This was baffling to many of her friends who saw her as being too mature for her age, but Emma didn’t care. She didn’t want to have her head bent over some cell phone or tablet all day long tweeting, texting or “Facebooking.” She wasn’t interested in giving a play-by-play account of her life on a daily basis; she was more interested in living it, and she did this by expressing herself through the practice of her one passion, which was music. For you see, she was an accomplished violinist by the age of 13.

    It all started when her father brought home a violin he had obtained at an auction. It was in excellent conditions, and he was able to bid a reasonable amount of money for it. Her father had always dreamed of playing the violin, but a work-related accident that injured his left hand thwarted this dream. His love of classical music had been passed down to Emma, and when she turned seven-years-old, she surprised him when she said, “Daddy, I want to play your violin.” And that, she did— and she did it beautifully and gracefully.

    As far as he was concerned, it was one of the greatest gifts that Emma could have given him, and he was grateful for it. Now that he wasn’t around, she paid tribute to his memory by always whispering to the violin before starting to play, “This is for you, Daddy.”

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