The Rhabit

It was a cloudy morning in May, as I walked over the country. After not a while, to my surprise I saw a rabbit scuffling slowly across the ground. It was white in colour, a peculiarity where the norm is brown, the rabbit turned as it heard my footstep and began to distance itself from me. Though what is more peculiar is it only went just a few meters away and when I came close, it ran away again, maintaining a constant distant from me.

This behaviour persisted so I followed as it evades me, when suddenly I tripped over roots and about to fall. The rabbit must have occured to its little brain that I wanted to catch it, that the white creature bolted away. I regained my steps and followed it, where I saw the rabbit crossed the road(for we were leaving the fields) and a car came. The driver probably barely noticed except a slight bum, the left tyre, as the car sped away blissfully.

I ran and prepared myself for the worse.
The rabbit was dead, or so I thought. However it suddenly talked, I musn't be dead then, I amended my thoughts. Then again, it couldn't be a rabbit then, if it happened to talk. Nevertheless it spoke.

To be honest I had believed the voices to be mine, except for the fact that the mouth of the white rabbit was in sync with the voice, while my mouth, I noticed, was dry and agap. What the rabbit said was even surprising, something you would not expect to be said by a ran-over rabbit, if they could talk at all. Still, what it said was something like this.

To die insignificantly or;
to die beautifully.

To this I had no response, as I now feel it was not a question. Even if it was, I wouldn't be able to provide an adequate reply at that time. The rabbit further said.

If a rabbit were to furrow a burrow,
would it simply be something that resembles one.
If a rabbit were to die and not see tomorrow,
would it matter what it left behind and done?

with that the rabbit stopped. Its words stopped with its breath. A friend of mine asked, "Why do you tell about this sad rabbit then?"
"I do not know. It's a habit."

A Rhabit. The end.

I once went to an island

The verses somehow related to this video/song.
Watch it first, or later, whichever suits. I recommend the former.
Owh and the writing below is not lyrics for the video. It just relates in a way. A bit.




I once went to an island

Mirabey

A new way of story telling that I was trying.
Unfortunately blogspot makes it quite hard to upload a succession of story.
So instead the pictures are uploaded to facebook.
Yes, the story is pictures

here's the public link
http://www.facebook.com/photo.php?pid=1945775&l=c93c80ece7&id=706717262

Pisces

There was once two salmons swimming in the sea.

They were swimming happily when he asked her, when would she be going back upstream.
She just kept quiet so they continued swimming silently.
The next day he asked her again,when would she be going back upstream.Again she didn't answer and again he accepted it quietly.
The next day he asked her again, and this time she answered.

"I do not want to go upstream. I love the sea and I want to swim in it for all my life"
He laughed.Yes, fishes do laugh and when they do, small bubbles came out of their gills.

"Why are you laughing?" she asked.
He answered that he didn't believe that she wouldn't go back upstream.
"We will see and wait. Then we will swim back together," he added.
"I am not going back."
"Then I have to swim with you for now," he said.
"Will you swim with me, as I explore the depth of the sea?"
"I will not be here forever, but I will wait upstream until whenever."
Thus they swam together onwards for some time.

Then as the last call came for the fish to return, as the last tulip bloomed, he left her in the sea and swam upstream to the place it all began. There he waited and in his waiting he saw how others grew red and how they left behind new eggs.
Even when they began to hatch, he was still waiting with his skin the same shade as before.
What happened to her, he never knew.
What happened to him was he never changed his scales and in his young body he died of old age, waiting for the salmon who fell in love with the sea.

Oh foolish fish, a silly salmon he was, waiting for something that never was to come.
Death In Vain.

The end.

Tap-here (Tapir)

The Tapir Tahir

There was once a tapir,
or was it a tahir?
Anyway he was our class leader.
A fine one said the other members
Drove a car light blue in colour,
"Jambu gila" some would mutter.
But really it doesn't matter,
Cos with the car,to Jusco we could wander!

Now it made me ponder
What on earth am I starting to blabber,
Owh about our class monitor
who wants a story about her
eh it's a him,not her!
egal, as long as he's a character
in any story that appear
on my blog,blog blogger~~~

though this aint one for that matter,
simple proses hacked together
run around,run little letters
be a poem,be a prose,or whatever
well,at least isn't it better
than only a key-chain peddler?

There was once Tahir,
or was it a tapir?