Something about the thickness of the air and heat leads me to believe I'm in the south. In the woods out back I see a red headed lady in a long Roman gown in a moss covered incubator. Her pose is romantic, come hithering. There's a little house with living room furniture in the back yard, kids playing in the peripheries. I wander around the corner and spot a large frog hopping lethargically away from me. I get down on my knees to try to scoop it up and see it has an askew third eye. I think the frog is sacred and holy and I also think it's been tainted by Fukushima or Chernobyl. It's a man frog. I see another frog under some sticks in the hole of the grass, this one is female and just beside her are two baby frogs. They all move slowly and don't appear to be afraid of me.
