A couple of weeks ago, spring was in the air. It was growing from the ground, it was singing from the pond next door. The crocuses were blooming and the frogs were squawking their furious mating calls.
A week later, the crocuses had croaked and the croakers, probably the same. Their betrothed, who were ribbited a week earlier, were now croaking, “Dude, what the hell?” The arrival ...
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