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Somewhere in the past i posted this but cannot find it. i prop it in homage to imagination for fun.

stirring rabbit...
Standing there watching with her hands swallowed in oily pockets, Cecile waits. Paul hauls in the stringer wondering if he had ever been a fish, and he wonders about his dreams. Paul has been trying to not think of Abel. Cecile thinks about him all the time, silently for Paul. Walking home they throw stones at a selfish rabbit. Paul says he was just saving the rabbit for another day. weeks ago, Abel took off after a rabbit and stayed gone. The animals and past lives are moving.
Once home Paul explained to the frying fishes that their bodies were nourishing and apologized with a smile he put away for later. They slouched with greasy sleeves while the light got level and slow. Sleep being long overdue came as suddenly as it always does. Cecile was carrying this really big loaf of bread. Paul was just trying to not dream of Able. He cries sometimes. He’ll be eyes wide, drawn in the corner, or out swinging sleep away on the porch. Paul slept good last night, and Cecile dreamt she was a rowing a one-oared glass boat in water like liquid white marble full of yellow fishes. She couldn’t find any place to land. And all the while, the fishes kept saying they were cold. She tried to warm them but Paul was smiling. As the morning ripened into day, they imagined into the green-grey glass until the dusty sounds of small stones shifting and a loud grunt changed the channel to the yard outside.
The mailbox stands grey and rusted almost shut. It is on an even greyer wooden post leaning out just above day lilies all around. The bicycle, reluctantly carrying the old man Theo and an assemblage of ropes and bundles, very nearly did not shed its cargo when the day lily defenses fell. The old soul’s front tire squarely found the post. The flag, faded white, rested half-raised indifferently in surrender. Never more quietly, did Theo lay looking , with his argument of possessions gathered around him. A collection of custodies he carried no more than they followed. Perched as a utensil seesaw across the mailbox was a large black spoon. He closed his eyes and snorted sentimentally. It was his otherwise stirrer. Handed down from his grandmother directly to him, as his father observed samewise practices. He would never stir like Granny, but he wasn’t bad.
Cecile was delighted to see Theo in the tangle of ropes and lilies. She giggled at the old man as Paul helped him to his feet. She loved him like she loved Abel. The skinny rabbit that dashed from the hedge amid the shudder steered into Pauls’ stone, and Cecile invited the old man to stay for stirring. It is always Paul who thanks the rabbits and the fishes. Theo asked about Abel. He says he thought he saw him the other day, but it was not him. With the rabbit eaten, Cecile told about her dream. Theo said he had never seen a yellow fish, but he had heard tell about a glass boat. They figured glass boats must make for good fishing.

hankster 9 Apr 18

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This is your writing isn’t it?

The first time I read it I thought it said “one-oared” and next time it looked like the system bug had eaten the “one”.

So very fine, in any case.

skado Level 9 Apr 18, 2022

thank you sir.

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