Featured Review on this writing by Joe Stuart

Purple Rabbit

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More Details
Status: Finished  |  Genre: Flash Fiction  |  House: Booksie Classic
Cover image: pixabay.com

Submitted: May 20, 2019

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Submitted: May 20, 2019

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Purple Rabbit

There’s a tapping on my window, and a scratching at my door. I open up and find myself a new world to explore. There’s a purple rabbit waiting to guide me on my way, to see what we might find on this bright and sunny day.

The sky is painted apricot, with fluorescent green clouds. They are large and puffy, like cotton wool if it were not for their strangeness in color. Looking up they rearrange themselves to look just like sheep, and when I look around myself and go and take a peek, I see a flock surrounding me. These ones are very different though, being orange and emitting some strange kind of snuffling sound. Baa humbug! What is this place?

Purple Rabbit is sitting some way ahead, waiting for me to manoeuvre my way through the sheep, and follow along at a distant creep. Where are we going? A forest that’s pink! Is it safe to enter? I need to think. Pink trees with tiny blue berries hanging from their branches. The rabbit stops to munch a few. Are they safe for me to eat? I don’t have a clue but they smell delicious, like strawberry sorbet mixed up with cream. I take a handful, munch one, then two. In for a penny, in for a pound, now I’ve started I might as well just munch away. The path is a red carpet as I walk along, and birds of bright yellow break out in to song.

It is really quite relaxing in a most peculiar way!

I can hear a stream trickling over tiny stones. I’m not sure quite what to expect as this place is proving to be a challenge of perception. Peach colored water gurgles it’s way over gemstone pebbles. The rabbit stoops to take a drink, and I cup my hands, lift up some of the liquid that I can only think is water. I sniff, I taste; cranberries, I’ve never been too keen on them.

Lemon mice run along the path, approaching us; now that’s a laugh for are they not supposed to be the most timid of creatures. As they approach they begin to grow and their eyes take on a blood red glow.

The Purple Rabbit nudges my hand, breaks the spell that’s holding me still, especially when I spy his dripping fangs. I turn and flee, the red carpet liquefying and slowing me in a kind of sludge with a gory stench.

The pink trees reach out their branches to snatch and grab and those berries of blue look more like bugs. I’ve been eating insects? The thought might make me choke and gag if it was not for the birds that caw like crows, their singing voices now raw and rasping instead of tuneful, sweet.

Still I run although my lungs are bursting. ‘Think what comes next’, I order my brain but all rational thought has gone down the drain. Sheep of orange that snarl like wolves as they spread out around me ready to lunge forward to make their attack.

The Purple Rabbit makes a final sprint and just as his fangs brush the side of my hand I’m back at my door, inside my house and safe and sound. My breathing is labored and my heart does pound.

Walking cautiously towards the window I take a peek and with it I give a sigh of relief. The sky is blue and the clouds are white, the path is a mixture of stones and leaves. I really must get out and do some sweeping.

All a dream, that’s what it was. No wolfish sheep or lemon rats; no pink trees with branches that scratch. Imagination in overflow, had lead me to somewhere I did not want to go.

A cup of coffee to calm my nerves. But what is that, the sound I heard. There’s a scritching and a scraping outside my door – what is it this time? I’m so not sure!


© Copyright 2020 hullabaloo22. All rights reserved.

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