Surfacing

The frog, yellowed like an old photograph or isinglass, twisted toward the surface -- spinning, falling, reaching. 

Something, I thought, is eating it.

Then I saw the unmistakable shape of the fearsome snapping turtle. I didn't move (silly of me since I wasn't threatened), but when it rose to the surface, first with only the nose and then one eye and the nose, something slick and whitish floated from its jaw, and I felt myself sliding, pierced by that great eye, before it even saw me.

When it did, he disappeared without a splash.