TRIPPING
On summer nights, with the windows open, you can hear the frogs in the pond across the street from my mother’s house chuckling. They laugh all night long. At least it sounds that way from the distance of a driveway and a gravel road. “Heh, heh heh,” they chortle. “Heh, heh heh.” ALL NIGHT LONG. The first time I heard them, I couldn’t figure out what it was or where the noise was coming from. Karin and I were sharing the big bed in the front bedroom and I rolled over and poked her. “Are you giggling under your breath?”...