Rabbit
Fred hated the rabbit. Along the walkways of his garden, it laid out like a fashion model at a photoshoot. The bunny had no fear. Fred wanted to strangle it, but the dreams, the bunny dreams, had really made him hesitate. Why wasn’t there a clearer answer to hard problems? Dreams after Susie left, too, but not this bad. The rabbit dreams. Carnage. Metal. A rifle some nights, something he didn’t even know how to load or hold. Now a little bird mocked him from the fence post. The bunny winked and Fred whispered shut up. No one did.
Photo Credit: Jared Irish (edited)
Loved this!
I liked this, nice.
nice