The Wisest of Souls

“You’re ugly,” Jackie said to the small frog, as he picked it up and put it in his pocket.

“And you’ll do just great!” he mused, to the frog, now cozily riding in the darkness.


The table was set. The crystal glistened and the silver shone. Mother and Father sat at the ends of the table. Joan and her latest boyfriend sat across from Jackie and his little sister.

In preparation to serve, Martha uncovered the plate, and let out a shriek.

Jackie smiled as he noted the look of disapproval on the boyfriend’s face. Why his sister couldn’t see those gold diggers for who they were, he’d never understand. What harm could a little frog do? This frog in fact deserved a medal.

But Jackie, wise for his years, decided to let the frog return to her natural habitat.

Joan glared at Jackie. That smirk had told her all she needed to know about the perpetrator of this latest small crime, one of a string calculated by her younger brother to disrupt her chances of getting our from under the sway of their parents’ ways.

Jackie continued his smirk, which slowly morphed into a serious look of superiority. “You’ll thank me when you are 45,” he told his sister. “You’ll thank me.”

Joan continued her glare, then shook her head and reached out to touch the boyfriend’s arm. A little reassurance, she thought. Maybe there’s still hope. Maybe.

Mother nodded to Martha, a signal to finish serving the dinner. The aroma of the roasted birds was wafting its way to all of their noses. Golden roasted birds, a small heap of skinny green beans, and a mound of shredded carrots graced each plate.

Jacob walked around the table, filling the wine glasses. Of course Jackie and his little sister got theirs watered down.

But the boyfriend was still not looking pleased. Jackie’s smirk returned. He couldn’t help it. Wisdom in an eight year old was of course not fully developed, even in the wisest of reincarnated souls.

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Engineering consultant by day, science fiction writer in off hours.

One thought on “The Wisest of Souls”

  1. It’s hard to be an old soul trapped in a child’s body. What’s the good of acute perception and intelligence when no one wants to listen?! But an old soul is driven to right wrongs, to fight for right, even as an eight year old! Perfect! 👏

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