“I’d love to know more about you.” Alice turned to the Mad Bunny, “Were you born this way?”
A puzzled look crossed the Mad Bunny’s face.
Alice felt she needed to elaborate, “Were you born as The Mad Bunny? Or was there a point in time when you, a bunny, turned into you, The Mad Bunny?”
“Ah… You are wondering about my uniqueness… I’ve often wondered about it myself. My parents were simple, common bunnies. I was born a bunny and at the time nobody had any reason to suspect I’d ever be anything else. On the outside, I was as plain a bunny as a bunny can be. On the inside, I was me.”
Hesitating for a moment the Mad Bunny leaned closer towards Alice, lowering his voice an octave, “I could never tell how different on the inside I was from the other bunnies because I could never see inside other bunnies. I dare say, I always felt I was special; but then again, I suspect all bunnies feel they are special, and there isn’t anything special about that.”
Alice nodded.
“It wasn’t until that one particular event that took place in my early formative years, that everything changed. It was a gloomy day. A Sunday. I know because every Sunday after mass my parents would go for their habitual afternoon walk on the beach. This very Sunday they stumbled upon a large, bowler hat. It was just standing there, in the middle of the sandy path. It was so big they had to walk around it. It was so elegant and posh they had to stop to admire it.”
The Mad Bunny suddenly felt inspired, the words were flowing almost in rhyme.
“This particular hat was so mysteriously inviting,
so curiously out of place.
My parents looked around and called out
for the owner, just in case.
But no one came.
So they took a moment,
consulted each other, and
concluded there could be no downside
if they just sneaked a peak inside.
As my father lifted the tip of the hat,
he heard my mother grasp for breath.
She covered her mouth with her hand as she screamed,
“Husband, this isn’t funny!”
My dad looked inside the hat
and for the first time saw me,
the Mad Bunny.
After this incident with the hat,
things were never the same for me
in the land of the bunnies.
But fortunately,
the hat had stuck,
and I could jump in it
(that’s just my luck!)
and dive in through to the other side
where my true nature doesn’t hide.
On the other side,
all kinds of weirdos and freaks reside.
Even you, Alice.
Come to think of it, we have met
on the other side of the hat.”
“Indeed we have”, Alice nodded.
Photograph from the series Mad Bunny by Yves Lecoq
he never asked for a photo
she sent them all her own,
some were of her with her kids,
others more close to the bone.
thought she him a king
on a polaroid throne,
collecting snippets of women
whose hearts were alone.
🙂
I have always enjoyed this writing . To this day it still skewers me on the heart, tiny heart that it is and I feel that on my journey through wonderland I hurt some people but I helped a few people too …. of what good is an omelette when eggs must be broken to make it 🙂
Let me respond to that with a song:
Accidents will happen
it’s not just hit and run
some of us return again
under a setting sun
to the places of our darknesses
and spaces we were mean
and people’s hearts left beating
Somewhere in between
This is a whole new song here, Kevin. Love what you’ve done with it.
@ElvisCostello Check this out! 🙂
Keep writing volcano . It keeps me coming back for more smoke 🙂