by Esther Davis
“I don’t think it’s a frog egg.” Dain raised the glass to eye level and turned it slowly. “You could’ve at least given him a bigger container.”
“The egg was smaller, I swear! By, like, a lot.” I didn’t like how Dain only clamped the glass’s rim from above. After three nights in the cupboard, the growing egg had pushed nearly all the water out. Some of the moisture still lingered on the side. What if the glass was too slick and my not-really-a-tadpole slipped from Dain’s fingertips? I resisted the urge to snatch the glass and cradle it against my chest.
The once penny-sized bubble now pressed against the glass walls. The confinement had warped the egg sac, making it more cylindrical than spherical. In the orange liquid floated not the pet tadpole I’d expected, but a dragon fetus. Continue reading “Not a Frog”