This post is now part of a short-story collection available in print and ebook. I will upload the links soon.
At the old age home, fingers entwined, they recounted their story to the volunteers.
Debra: It was 1959. I was at the city fountain, and like all women of my age, making a wish to find true love.
Suddenly a guy bumped into me, looking scared and mortified. His fiancée was holding a frog from the fountain and laughing.
It was love at first sight.
Emma: Next day, a jar with a frog spawn sat at my doorstep with a note: “Seems like you were kissing the wrong frog, Princess. Coffee at 4, City fountain?”
We never looked back.
“So many stories are waiting to be told. So I hold the pen and let the stories write themselves.” – the writer