Fate

At this time of year in Sacramento, we have a lot of small frogs.  When it cools down at night they often migrate to cement areas which retain heat from the day.

This morning I went out to retrieve my paper from the front porch and opened it to find a crushed frog on the outside of the paper.  Evidently the frog crawled up on the porch sometime in the night and when the paper was delivered it landed on him - crushing him.  That looked to me like a clear definition of the wiles of fate.

My wife thought it was merely something to be removed before she read the paper.