The Frog at the Top of Frosty Mountain

Epilogue

Allan typed in the closing sentence to his account of the wild journey to Frosty Moutain and sat back in his chair, feeling relieved. He stood up to stretch and stopped in front of the window that overlooked the forest. It was a nice break from the city, and he was once again grateful for moving back in with Sharon. His memory was completely restored, and his visions and fantasies had mostly ceased. Mostly.

Every now and then, Allan would hear Mr. Bullfrog say something. Usually, it was advice. Sometimes it was a witty comment or joke. But every time he heard the voice, he felt a strange sense of comfort. He didn't tell anyone about it, but he had a funny feeling that Sharon knew.

"Did you finish it?" Sharon asked as she entered the room with coffee.

"Yeah." Allan said. He accepted his coffee mug and plucked a kiss on Sharon's cheek. "Now I can finally move on to something else."

"Have you decided what that's going to be?"

"I don't know. I was thinking about writing a fantasy novel. Talking animals vs dark demons from another dimension. What do you think?"

"Could be interesting. Did you get that idea while you were going to the mountain?"

"Yeah. That pigeon told me about it. I think out of all the weird stuff that I saw or heard, that was probably the weirdest."

"Even weirder than a kaiju flooding the city with acid?"

"On second thought, that was pretty weird. I think Bruce Fisher Sr. takes the cake."

Sharon laughed. Allan knew it was in good spirit, and that at no point she thought he was going crazy. He didn't dare tell anyone else about the details of his bizare journey, not even Robert, who was staying with them for a couple of days. To the rest of the world, his bizare journey would only be known as a silly story he typed up for fun. The name of the story would be: 'The Frog at the Top of Frosty Mountain.'

"Do you wanna go for a walk after we finish the coffee?" Allan asked.

"Sure." Sharon answered. "I'll go put on my shoes."

Allan looked out the window again, out at the forest. Even though he knew talking animals, witches, demons and monsters weren't real, there was something magical about the forest in the morning. A part of him felt that if he walked outside at just the right moment, he would enter that magical world again, one where pigeons gave directions and frogs gave writing advice. As he looked out at the forest, he noticed movement on the window sill.

He looked down and saw a small, green frog sitting on the window sill. The frog remained quiet for a couple seconds, then let out a loud croak.

"Hey little guy." Allan said as he bent over. He was amazed that something so small had managed to reach the second floor. "Do you need a way down?"

Allan held out his hand towards the frog and waited. He kept as still as possible, not wanting to scare off the frog. He remained motionless for a minute, then laughed at himself for thinking a frog would simply jump into his hand and trust him to get itself down to the forest in safety.

"Guess that stuff only happens in my imagination." Allan said with a smile.

The frog croaked once again, and then hopped into Allan's hand.