In an old, cozy house made of stone and wood, a lonely frog sat on his bench and ate his dinner.

He used to have company - friends, maybe even a family. But over time they had left, one by one, and he had stayed. Now he spent his evenings alone, with a bowl of soup and his thoughts.

Outside, the sun sank behind the trees, casting a golden light through the old windows. The frog took a spoonful of soup and listened to the quiet crackling of the flames in his fireplace. Perhaps one day someone would come to his door again. Until then, all he could do was remember.