third dream

[flailingfelt.livejournal.com]

[Kermit is sitting in the lobby on top of one of the couches, gazing wistfully out the window] Gosh, it sure is pretty out there. All that snow, like something out of an old painting or a Christmas card. I wish I could go out in it and see everything, but ... well ... I'm kind of stuck inside until it warms up. The perils of being cold-blooded, I guess...

[he swings his feet a little and looks over at the journal] I just realized, I never wished everyone Happy New Year. What year is it, anyway? Are the calendars different here?

Comments

[flailingfelt.livejournal.com]

Oh no, no, that's -- that's not what I mean at all, no, you see, I am, for a fact, literally: A. Frog. [he stretches the last word out a little so that it's somehow two syllables: frow-ag.]

Green, flippers, buggy eyes, grew up in a swamp. The whole nine yards. Or, well, three feet.

[borgiararity.livejournal.com]

A frog? [ This sounds like a strange trick though she cannot see the humor. ]

But here you speak with me.

[flailingfelt.livejournal.com]

Yep. Where I come from, that's not really that strange at all.