Frog On A Log?

It happened on Thanksgiving Day. I was on my way to my girlfriend's house when a car slammed straight into mine. The road was deserted, not a single person was around. The doors were jammed shut from the impact, and flames were licking toward the engine. I fumbled for the safety hammer, only to find that someone had replaced it with a toy hammer shaped like a cartoon bear. Panicking, I called my girlfriend. But before she could even pick up, her ringtone started playing from the car that had just hit me. Luna Hill stepped out, hand in hand with her childhood sweetheart, Julian Ford. Julian put on a show of alarm. "Oh no, I'm such an idiot! My first time driving, and I already hit a car." When Luna saw that it was me in the crushed car, she quickly tried to calm him down. "It's fine. He probably did it on purpose." I pounded on the window, shouting for her. "Luna, the safety hammer's been switched out! Please, help me get out!" Julian burst into a grin. "Sebastian, that was me! The little bear hammer's adorable, isn't it?" Luna's face twisted in disgust. "You're fine. Stop being dramatic. Figure it out yourself." Thick smoke was billowing inside the car, and it was about to explode. I begged her to get me out. Julian chuckled. "Sebastian, are you cooking in there or what? That smoke's killing me!" He patted his stomach and said with a laugh, "Man, I'm starving. Luna, let's go home and eat." Luna hooked her arm through his and tossed a parting line over her shoulder. "Enough already. My parents are waiting for us to start dinner." Just as I was about to pass out from the smoke, I slammed my hand on the car's emergency button.

The Kumiho my father chose for me hated me. He hated that he was my pet. When I turned eighteen, I decided to give him his freedom. However, it turned out that he was in love with one of our servants’ daughters, Rachel Lenford. I was crushed, but I could only accept it. I woke up from a good dream to find a silver-ringed giant python coiled around my body. It hissed at me while flicking its forked tongue. "Why do you like him so much? How about trying me out? I'm better than he is." Trying this snake out? How would that work?

In our lakeside town, if a woman wanted to marry the love of her life, she must personally build a wooden rowboat to serve as her wedding vessel. On the exact day of our seventh anniversary, my girlfriend, Sarah Granger, held the launch ceremony for her newly finished boat. The crowd cheered as they witnessed the moment, and my heart pounded furiously against my ribs. However, just as I was about to board the boat, I caught the hushed whispers of her best friends. “Are you really giving this boat to Logan? Aren’t you afraid Austin will throw a fit?" “Yeah, Austin can be pretty sensitive. Be careful not to push him too far.” The next second, Sarah’s casual voice rang out, filled with absolute certainty. “He won’t. Austin is the easiest guy to appease. He’s completely head over heels for me. Besides, around these parts, if a guy isn’t married by twenty-eight, everyone starts looking at him like a pathetic bachelor. He wouldn’t dare make a scene. Think about it: the marriage certificate goes to Austin, and the wedding vessel goes to Logan. It’s totally fair. Plus, it… makes up for my regrets.” So, agreeing to get legally married to me was a regret for her? Easy to appease? Pathetic bachelor? Those words hurt my ears, and I started to choke up, but I didn’t cry. Instead, I pulled out my phone and sent a single text message. [Mom, I’m taking your advice. I’m twenty-eight now, and I’m not waiting around anymore.]

My husband, Steve Malone, thinks of himself as a highly-educated person. Not only that, but he's also very uninterested in physical intimacy. When we go to bed every night, we have to sleep with a bowl of water between us. In fact, Steve refuses to let me touch him at all. But on the day he returns from the volunteer teaching program in the countryside, I discover a pair of pantyhose all tangled up in his clothes. Upon hearing my question, Steve maintains his cool facade as he explains, "This is contraband that I've confiscated from a student." I never respond to Steve. Instead, I get in contact with the female teacher, Rebecca Cramer, who has gone teaching with Steve earlier. From the other end of the line, Rebecca's sarcastic voice drifts over. "Your husband sure is unstoppable, Audrey. He couldn't resist kneeling in the pig sty while licking the dead skin off that Paige widow's feet. No one could stop him at all. "I heard that Paige even intends to give birth to a child for him. They went at it once per day, you know. I think you should head over here and witness everything for yourself." As soon as I end the call, I contact my lawyer right away and prepare to file for a divorce. This time, I'm hell-bent on ending things with Steve.

My boss, Grant Whitlock, removed every table and chair from the operations team's area during the company's holiday party. Then, he placed one stainless-steel dog bowl in the middle of the stage. "Ops is basically the company's guard dog," he announced. "And dogs don't eat at the table." The top sales guy laughed and scraped his leftovers straight into the bowl. After that, Grant threw a black trash bag over my shoulders. "From now on, you're our walking trash can. Make yourself useful." The room exploded with laughter. I didn't say a word. I just tightened my grip around the master access card in my hand. What they didn't know was that the building's emergency utility approvals, maintenance access, and property management favors all went through me. They were all living it up because of this "dog" they loved looking down on. I had had enough. So, I dropped my employee badge into the dog bowl and walked out on them. I thought, 'After the holidays, no one will be cleaning the mess on those two floors. Let's see how well they survive without me.'

At the annual company raffle, I had barely stepped onto the stage when my supervisor, Lily Smith, pressed a crumpled slip of paper into my palm. "A special reward for our top salesperson," she chirped. "Go ahead, open it. Let everyone see." Under the eager gaze of the crowd, I unfolded the note. Written in messy handwriting were the words: Clean the company toilets for three days. The room erupted in laughter. Lily folded her arms, cocked her head, and smirked at me. "Nice, right?" she said. "Everyone knows those sales of yours came from sleeping with old men. Dirty money. To keep things fair, the others get a break, and you pick up a little extra work. You don't have a problem with that, do you?" The laughter surged again, nearly lifting the roof. From the side of the room, my boyfriend, Seth Hoffman, the company's CEO, watched everything unfold. As usual, he said nothing in my defense. They all thought I would fall apart, cry, or make a scene. Instead, I simply gave a calm nod. The very next day, the company was hit with over three hundred property cancellations. Its cash flow collapsed overnight. That was when Lily and Seth rushed to me, demanding I go plead with the buyers. I smiled and said, "No thanks. I wouldn't want to help the company recover and end up with strong numbers again. That might make everyone even more uncomfortable."