(Note: This was a writing excersize to write the same scene in four different narrative perspectives)
When the frogs hit hte highway, I had no idea what was going on. I mean, frogs don't normally drop out of the sky. I mean one minute, I'm looking down to change the radio station, the next there's this sick thud -like a bag of balogena- and a frog's lying out on the hood of my car. It's flat and dead and mangled up so that it stares straight up the hood and at me with milky, drippy frog eyes. Then there's more of them, all coming down with that same sound, and cars are honking and swerving. The frogs were raining down everywhere, covering my car and spattering their guts on everything. I thought I would be sick.
A rain of frogs isn't all that common anymore. Some people speculate it might be because of the air pollution -seeing as the theory is that frog eggs hatch up in the clouds and tadpoles grow up there. But overall, it's not one of those things people come to expect, most certainly not during the seven-AM gridlock outside of Statan Island. So when the frogs did begin to rain, ever so gradually, people went into a state of panic. Some of them tried to drive around the traffic to get out of the amphibial downpour. Some opened their doors and climbed out onto the highway to pray to God, only to be answered by a fatally plunging green, bulky and rather awkward raindrop equivolent to the face. And some, like Heriks, stayed in their car and stared, numb with shock.
It was raining frogs. Frogs rained down on the highway, where the cars were. The cars were on the highway, and it was raining. Frogs, in fact. People were probably frightened, but this is third person objective, so that isn't known. All that is known is that it rained frogs on the highway.
Heriks was secretly terrified of frogs. So, the entire situation unfolding around him was enough to make him contemplate turning the car around and returning home. But the wet spattering sound the frogs made as they fell was quite convincingly to the contrary. He could feel his skin clamming up with each consecutive froggy impact to his car's roof. What if the ceiling breaks? He worried this to himself franticly. What if the metal buckles under the weight of their tiny, frog bodies and they all fall inside? He was terrified of hte concept- smothering to death under a giant pile of frog corpses in his Jetta. And without a fu ll tank of gas either. Hands wringing together in his lap, Heriks watched the amphibians' bodies pile up on the hood, dread worming around inside his stomach like a seizuring tapeworm. Then, with three final thuds like the delayed last pops in a bag of microwave popcorn, it stopped.