Cycling frog

Amsterdam, the old city centre. It´s sunny as I cycle home from work. A father overtakes me. The little girl on the back of his bike wears flowers in her hair and waves a twig at me.

“I’ve got a magic wand,” she says, “and I’m turning you into a frog!”

And just like that, she turns me into a frog – a cycling frog at that! 

“Croak!” I say.

“Kwak kwak,” her daddy chimes in.

Enthralled by her success, she aims the wand and magic spell at other passersby. A sloppy student, lovers overlooking the canals, an early drunk an even another child. Nobody croaks.

Unfazed, the flowerchild turns back to me and says: “You’re a princess now.”

And such is life, I guess. You can’t even count on who you are.