deadrabbit

Some rabbit died last night. A coyote got to it or something, they found it's body ravaged by buckshot. They identified it through the rot by the silver tag around it's neck, bearing a name, phone number, and address. Father said, "Guess these things just happen, don't it?" I nodded and packed, blinked and two months passed. Stop after stop, what's gotten into you? "I feel sick today." I reply. Rolling skylines pass by, their eyes carving canyons into the river highway. So it reforms and melts again. Father drives, the night bites, I follow suit and sink my teeth into pleather and let the car kick my head back up. My own head strangles me, my windows open, I'm cold. Hold me, I guess, what else are you supposed to do? Am I I'm scared of him? No matter how close he sits to me, or how much his touch sucks the cold away. My mother had an affair and drove my father mad, I assume that's bound to happen in every relationship. Every once in a while, when a street lamp isn't there to protect me, the window glares back into my eyes and I get a glimpse of myself. Who does she think she is? The elk tooth rattles in it's pouch. So what's new, how new? Fuck, nothing, nothing ever, nothing forever. Sick, sick. Red, blue, dancers and swirls and colors and eyes peering back as the car stops abruptly to meet the red seeing angels demands. They lock eyes with me, with my two front teeth exposed and deep into the side of the car door, and the man hunched over me. I get red, as the light was before it went green, and the car goes again. First, second, third, fourth- wait no, I only heard the engine shift thrice. Then the fourth gear clicks in and I imagine father working the clutch mindlessly. He hasn't said anything in hours. What's he supposed to say? What does he owe me? Last time we spoke he told me he wanted to take me hunting. I nodded, I guess. We stop so I can get out and throw up over some railing some place on some bridge over some river.

About

Hi! This the second official entry in this sort of series. It opens with some sort of rabbit dying. It enforces her thoughts on the death of animals, described last story. I originally had a lot more planned for that part, but found it didn't only fail to meet a word limit, but also failed to mix well with the story. I wanted to capture the feeling of late-night car rides here, and a lot of this, as with this series, was all gut instinct. She supposedly has a boyfriend that's never mentioned before or again, maybe he never existed in the first place. (write that down, write that down!) Who know's what the sickness represents? When I wrote it I just felt it was the right thing to do, that it made the most since, and I think it still does. Parts of this story are taken from other stories I've written as well that aren't on here. "Red, blue, dancers and swirls and colors" is a concept I took from one of my earlier works. It's meant to describe what things look like with your eyes closed, light just coming through.