He regarded the last handfuls of clothing in the laundry basket with a jaundiced eye. Too much to shove into the washer, but too little to justify paying for a second load.
He glanced around the room. No movement.
He moved to the next washer and bent over, peering inside. An enormous frog – toad? – sat inside. It filled the whole of the interior. A blue ceramic bowl was wedged into the washer beside it. Perhaps five dollars in assorted change filled the bowl, along with three dead cockroaches and an unmoving fly.
"Ribbit?" The frog regarded him expectantly.
DP FICTION #5: “Not a Bird” by H.E. Roulo
13 hours ago