The lord of the pool surveys his pale congregation.

In the gray hush of a suburban evening, a great toad holds court from its throne of woven lawn-chair plastic, draped in the soft authority of a bathrobe. The humans below float like supplicants in still water, their upturned faces catching the dim glow from the house behind. Something ancient and unhurried radiates from the toad's expression, as though it has always been this way.

Jul 5, 2026

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