General

Enya eyed the toad. It's skin was as rough as that time she had put a blow torch on her mother's new counter and the surface had bubbled. It was a similar brown too, only with military green and sandy hues. It's eyes stuck out on the top like the headlamps on her old man's 1980's pontiac firebird. It was so large that if she were to hold it both hands would be necessary. She imagined capturing it, placing it between two slices of white bread and putting it in her brother's lunch box. Of course she may have to lean on the lid a bit for it to close, that hopper was fat. Then it puffed out it's chest and began to croak, it's call was answered, an echoing chorus in the gloom. Without warning it leapt into the blackened water of twilight and was gone from view. She cursed the missed opportunity and went back to setting up her snares.

By james, November 2, 2014.
General

Green, brown and slimy, the world saw it with little beauty. But not James. He looked at it with awe and curiosity. The way its eyes bulged; the way its skin felt intrigued him. He could see the toad was an outsider, called ugly; it repulsed many. But not James. To him it was beautiful. A creature of natures' genius. James knew our hearts are drunk with a beauty our eyes could never see. Beauty is not in the face; beauty is a light in the heart. To him, the toad was beautiful.

By ronnie, November 2, 2014.
General

Dry leathery, bumpy skin, fat stubby body, short hind legs, puffed up as if in portly indignation, lightening fast tongue flicks forward to catch a fly.

By angela, February 29, 2012.