My frog body sprouts into a prince thanks to the kiss. I kneel to lick a mosquito off her wrist.
“Come live in the palace!”
I squat in the royal garden.
The first sign of trouble. “It’s just not working out.”
I hop into the pond. Old habits die hard.
Caleb resides in Arkansas where he plays beach volleyball.
Girl had never dated a prince. She’d dated Pig, and Dog, and Weasel, but royalty had never bought her dinner or kissed her hand.
One day she was sitting in a café when a handsome man approached her. She smiled. Could this be her forever?
“Hello,” he said. “I’m Frog.”
This is Alexandra’s fourth 50-Word Story.
“MAKE WHEY FOR THE PRINCE!”
“Oh, sorry, I’ll step aside, didn’t see you coming.”
“WHERE ARE YOU GOING?!”
“I’m making way!”
“NO, NO, NO! I SAID ‘MAKE WHEY‘!!”
“Make weigh? What, does he need a scale to stand on?”
“ARE YOU CALLING HIS ROYAL HIGHNESS FAT!?”
“SUMMON THE EXECUTIONER!!”
“That’s enough!” roared the Prince.
“But Your Majesty…”
“I said that’s enough!”
The page lowered his head and cautiously withdrew the cereal box. “But the doctor said–”
“Hang the doctor!” shouted the Prince. “Behead him! If I only want to eat six Cheerios, I’m only going to eat six Cheerios!”