The Tears of Thomas Gill

In a small coastal town nestled between rolling hills and the endless expanse of the sea, there lived a young boy named Thomas Gill. He was an unassuming child with tousled brown hair, bright blue eyes, and a natural affinity for water. The townsfolk often remarked how Thomas seemed to have a connection with the ocean, but no one truly understood just how deep that connection ran.

Thomas lived with his parents in a quaint cottage at the edge of town, not far from a meandering river that flowed into the sea. His days were filled with the simple joys of childhood—exploring the shoreline, skipping stones across the river, and tending to his small garden pond. This pond was Thomas’s sanctuary, a place where he spent hours watching the frogs hop between lily pads and the fish dart through the water. Among these frogs was his favorite companion, a tiny green frog he had named Bubbles.

Bubbles was no ordinary frog. To Thomas, Bubbles was a friend, a confidant, and a source of endless amusement. The little frog would croak in response to Thomas’s voice, and the boy liked to believe that Bubbles understood everything he said. They were inseparable, and Thomas often carried Bubbles in his pocket, letting him hop around whenever they sat by the pond.

But Thomas harbored a secret. Whenever he was upset, something strange would happen. The sky would darken, and the clouds would gather ominously overhead. The townspeople called it "Gill's Gloom," a mysterious phenomenon that seemed to coincide with the boy’s tears. They had no idea that the rainstorms were linked to Thomas’s emotions, nor did they know that his father was Poseidon, the ancient god of the sea.

Thomas himself was unaware of his divine heritage. His mother had met Poseidon long ago during a solitary walk along the beach. She had fallen in love with the enigmatic man who emerged from the waves, only to discover his true identity when he disappeared back into the sea. Poseidon had left her with a son, a child who inherited his control over water but without the knowledge of his origins.

One sunny afternoon, Thomas was playing by the pond with Bubbles as usual. He watched the little frog leap from one stone to another, his heart filled with joy. But as he turned to grab a pebble to skip across the water, tragedy struck. Without realizing it, Thomas sat back down, not knowing that Bubbles had hopped onto the very stone he intended to use. There was a soft, sickening squish beneath him, followed by an eerie silence.

Thomas froze, his heart sinking as he lifted himself up and saw what had happened. Bubbles lay still on the stone, lifeless and limp. The realization hit him like a tidal wave, and he felt a knot of despair tighten in his chest. His eyes welled up with tears, and as the first tear fell, it was as if the sky responded to his sorrow.

Dark clouds rolled in from the horizon, and the bright afternoon was soon swallowed by a stormy gloom. Thunder rumbled in the distance, and the first drops of rain began to fall. But these weren’t the gentle sprinkles of a passing shower; they were heavy, relentless, and filled with the weight of Thomas’s grief. The rain poured down in torrents, drenching the town and swelling the river beyond its banks.

As Thomas wept for his lost friend, the river rose higher and higher, until it overflowed onto the road that led to town. The muddy water surged across the fields, washing away everything in its path. The townsfolk scrambled to protect their homes, and Thomas’s parents watched helplessly as the floodwaters cut off the only road to the village. They were trapped, unable to go out for supplies or even to seek help.

Inside their cottage, Thomas’s mother tried to console her son, but the boy was inconsolable. He couldn’t stop crying, and with each tear, the storm outside grew fiercer. It wasn’t long before the entire town was engulfed in a downpour that seemed to have no end.

Hours passed, and the storm showed no sign of letting up. Thomas’s mother grew worried, not only for the town but also for her son. She knew something was different about Thomas, but she had never imagined his emotions could have such a powerful effect on the weather. She needed to do something, but what could she possibly do to comfort a child who had just lost his best friend?

As the night wore on, the storm continued its relentless assault, and Thomas remained curled up in his room, unable to sleep. He could hear the rain pounding against the windows, a constant reminder of the sadness that filled his heart. The weight of his guilt was unbearable—he had loved Bubbles, and now Bubbles was gone, all because of him.

Then, in the midst of the storm, something miraculous happened.

A loud croak echoed through the rain, rising above the sound of the wind and the pounding water. It was a deep, resonant croak, much louder than any frog Thomas had ever heard before. He sat up, wiping his tears away, and listened intently. There it was again—a powerful croak, coming from outside his window.

Curiosity piqued, Thomas rushed to the window and peered out into the storm. Through the sheets of rain, he could just make out a large shape moving near the pond. It was too big to be one of the usual frogs, and as Thomas’s eyes adjusted to the darkness, he saw something extraordinary.

A giant frog, nearly as big as a dog, was sitting by the edge of the pond, its skin shimmering with an iridescent green hue. Its eyes, large and wise, seemed to glow in the dim light. The frog croaked again, a sound that resonated deep within Thomas’s chest, and in that moment, the boy felt a strange sense of calm wash over him.

Thomas quickly slipped on his raincoat and boots and hurried outside, braving the storm. The rain soaked him to the bone, but he didn’t care. He had to see this frog up close, to understand what it was doing in his pond.

When he reached the edge of the pond, the giant frog turned its gaze toward him. There was something comforting about the way it looked at Thomas, as if it understood his pain. Slowly, Thomas reached out a trembling hand and touched the frog’s head. Its skin was cool and smooth, and as he made contact, a sense of peace enveloped him.

The frog croaked softly, and Thomas could have sworn it sounded almost like a greeting. He knelt down beside it, his tears forgotten, replaced by a feeling of wonder. The storm still raged around them, but the presence of this magnificent creature made Thomas feel safe, protected.

For a moment, he simply sat there, his hand resting on the frog’s head. He didn’t know where the creature had come from or why it had appeared, but in his heart, he knew that it was here for him. Perhaps it was a gift from the river, a replacement for the friend he had lost.

As if sensing Thomas’s thoughts, the giant frog hopped closer to the pond, then turned back to look at him. It was inviting him to stay, to keep it company, just as he had done with Bubbles. A small smile tugged at the corners of Thomas’s mouth, and for the first time since Bubbles’s death, he felt a glimmer of happiness.

The frog croaked again, this time with a softer, more soothing tone. It was as if it was telling Thomas that everything would be okay, that life would go on despite the loss. And in that moment, Thomas believed it.

Slowly, the storm began to abate. The rain, which had been pouring down in sheets, gradually lessened to a gentle drizzle. The clouds that had blanketed the sky started to break apart, revealing patches of clear blue above. The river, which had swelled to dangerous levels, began to recede, its waters flowing back into their rightful course.

The townspeople, who had been huddled inside their homes, emerged cautiously, looking up at the sky in wonder. The storm had passed, as suddenly as it had come, and now the sun was beginning to peek through the clouds, casting a warm, golden light over the town.

Back at the pond, Thomas watched as the giant frog settled down on a rock, its eyes half-closed in contentment. The boy’s heart felt lighter than it had in days, and he knew that this frog, this new friend, would be a constant companion in his life. He had lost Bubbles, but in return, he had gained something just as precious.

As the sun finally broke free from the clouds, bathing the world in its radiant light, Thomas stood up and took a deep breath. The air was fresh and clean, and the pond sparkled with droplets of water. He looked down at the giant frog, who gave him a slow, deliberate blink, as if to say, "I’m here with you."

And with that, Thomas knew he wasn’t alone. The sorrow that had once consumed him was gone, replaced by a sense of peace and hope for the future. The tears of Thomas Gill had brought about a storm, but in the end, they had also brought him a new friend.

As the sun shone brightly in the sky, Thomas walked back to his cottage, his heart filled with warmth. The giant frog remained by the pond, a silent guardian, a symbol of new beginnings. And for the first time in a long while, Thomas smiled, knowing that everything was going to be alright.

The end