A pair of plump ruby red lips coming in for the kill.
There was a time when I would’ve jumped at a chance to smooch a beautiful princess. Anything to get me out of this sticky, godforsaken swamp.
Not anymore.
Things are different now. This proud kingdom I once ruled is crumbling – years of royal ineptitude, peasant unrest and ruinous droughts. Hardly enticing for someone of my former stature.
I ponder my options as my dinner buzzes just out of tongue’s reach.
And suddenly the cool pond water and the endless supply of fat, juicy mosquitoes doesn’t seem so bad.
The Weekday One Hundred 