"Again," Zubair commanded, his eyes never leaving the creatures on the other side of the window.
Everyone pushed the couch even closer to the window without saying a word.
The pane complained. A dozen frogs popped off the outside like grapes under a thumb and splatted down the face. New bodies took their place instantly, as if the night had an unending supply to throw at them.
The croaking pitched higher, as if some conductor had lifted a hand.
Something thumped the chimney cap, then came the sound of bodies churning down the brick chimney like some sort of fucked up Santa.
Elias grabbed for the flue lever and yanked it shut, but it was already too late.
Three small green frogs shot out of the hearth gap anyway, landed among kindling, and sat there like damp jewels that had just remembered they could move.
