Serenity (Flash Fiction)

  Serenity was a frog. A distorted, unpleasant-looking frog. Or perhaps they weren’t really a frog at all, but in any case, it was a lot easier to believe that they were. This fact was the only thing that the townsfolk could count on about Serenity. 

Without any qualities other than the semblance of a mucous-encrusted amphibian, Serenity was also peculiar in that they never had a location. At times it seemed that they must be somewhere, for if they were seen, surely that must be where they were situated. However, it was often the case that being in one place didn’t prevent Serenity from being somewhere else too. And then there were times when Serenity was nowhere at all, when really they must have been in at least one somewhere.

It was a wonder if there really was such thing as Serenity and not just some devious, backwards illusion that had come to infect the entirety of the village—or almost the entire village. One single boy had never come across Serentiy. Not even their shadow, which Serenity had a habit of leaving around for people to discover. It was as if he was exempt from this senseless world of uncertainty that came with the intrusion of Serenity. However, for years, his father had been convinced that the frog slept on his shoulder every third Friday and perhaps between the two of them, he had enough Serenity for them both.

All this confusion was generally accepted by the townspeople. But with confusion must come something to be confused about. Hence the importance of believing—regardless if it was true—that Serenity was something and that something was a frog.