Responsibility
I stand over the pond, devastated. Two frogs – one small, the other smaller still - are splayed in suspended animation, eyes and fingers wide open, as are mine as I reach to my face in horror at the sight of their silvered bellies. I scan the scene and catch sight of the bobbled texture of a toad further down. I wail then, but they cannot hear as they are caught beneath a solid plate of ice an inch think that I struggle to prize from the surface of the wildlife pond. What have I done, I groan, heaving the mottled pane of frozen water onto a matt of dead leaves. I stamp on it and fall to my knees, scared of things I am capable of forgetting.
Keep reading with a 7-day free trial
Subscribe to Breccia by Ruth Allen to keep reading this post and get 7 days of free access to the full post archives.