A flash fiction written especially for us by Jayden Hunter.
Two giant eyes appeared in the sky last Tuesday. The bright globes seemed alive, and their movements gave me the impression they were watching humanity.
Like a disembodied God.
Or a scientist observing the behavior of ants.
One eye was a dark chocolate brown.
The other green, which was unusual enough, considering it’s not normal for two giant eyes to appear in the sky. The mismatched eyes only made the whole situation stranger—although why this was—I could never put my finger on.
“Why not three eyes?” an unnamed stranger asked the gathering crowd.
“You know, like a trinity of eyes?”
“Father, Son, and Spirit?” a frog asked.
“Wait a minute, there’s talking frogs in this story?” a pretty woman wondered–out loud–but to nobody in particular.
“I was a Prince,” the frog said. “Just last Thursday.”
I contemplated the frog, the giant eyes, and the woman. Sometimes, in life, you have to keep unusual things separated in your mind with reminders (to yourself) that not everything is at it seems. I was reasonably confident I’d not ingested any mushrooms (or other drugs). I knew I wasn’t hooked up to any virtual reality gear. I wasn’t floating in nano-liquid. The Body-Pod by EvialgorCorp hadn’t been invented yet, although, to be completely honest, I couldn’t swear I hadn’t been in the future yesterday. I might have jumped into a time travel worm-hole and blacked out.
I figured I’d take charge of the situation. I screamed at the eyes, “What do you want?”
Due to the fact that no mouth appeared in the sky, there was no answer.
Or, possibly, whatever being was behind the eyes refused to speak. Maybe it was a God, I thought, more than a few times.
Gods tend to be reticent.
That was it.
“I’m not sure there are any ears,” the frog observed.
“I noticed that,” I said while eyeing, slyly I thought, the woman. She’d become, in my mind, more attractive during the period the crowd grew in size. I’d later find out her name was Fiona. Whenever we were alone, she seemed quite average, but get her in a crowd and all of a sudden she was a supermodel. Don’t ask me to explain this, I can’t. Sorry.
“You don’t appear to have any ears,” Fiona said to the frog. “But you hear just fine.”
“That I don’t seem to have any ears is correct. But I have frog ears. It’s obvious. I’m talking to you, for instance.”
“I’m not sure that proves anything,” she countered. “In these situations, nothing is absolute.”
“Everything is subjective,” I stated. I felt sort of stupid after I said this, but…wait!
Wait, a minute. I’m remembering this slightly wrong. Here is what I actually shouted boldly was this: “Nothing in life is certain!”
“True,” Fiona said.
“But, I am certain I like you,” I said. Perhaps a bit shyly, but I didn’t want to scare her.
I hate it when a woman bolts when all I wanted to do was marry her or something equally foolish, like go for a mint chip ice cream. Anyway, the day was strange enough without having to deal with tragic loss, so I took a deep breath and tried to calm myself.
The frog smiled (don’t ask me how I knew he was smiling–I just did). “You’d feel a tragic loss if you scared off a woman you only just met?” the frog asked me.
“You’re a mind reader, too?” I asked him. Or her. It’s hard to tell with frogs.
“But, of course,” he replied after capturing a fly in his long, sticky tongue. He ate it in one swallow.
“Well then,” I suggested, “tell us what the mind behind those eyes is thinking.”
“Hmm,” the green, tailless amphibian hummed. His short, squat body, moist from a recent dip in fresh waters, lurched forward. His long powerful legs twitched. He seemed to think for a long time, but I think, in retrospect, it was only for a minute. Or two. “There’s nothing there.”
“So, it’s an illusion?” I asked.
“Would you care to join me for lunch?” I asked the pretty woman.
“Sure,” she said.
And that was how I met my wife.
More of Jayden’s writing can be found here.