The grasses lightly swayed in the cool breath of the earth, waving as the weak particles of air flowed among their sharp blades. Everything was sitting in the belly of darkness, waiting, sleeping, until the sun would rise and shed light on its existence. One little creature, however, could not participate in the unanimous slumber as she had awoken when she realized there was no moon to comfort her and keep her from the hungry night spirits, no warm wind to brush through her coat to make her purr, and no crickets to sing her a soothing lullaby filled with visions of soft, delicate colors. She was huddled flat on the ground so that her heart thumped quietly into the hard dirt. Muffled sounds crept from every dark nook and found their home in the little rabbit’s long ears. They crept into her brain and danced to primal beats of drums spelling out terrible omens and painting horrifying pictures of slanted eyes, sharp teeth, never-ending holes, and almost imminent death. While dancing, they evolved into miniscule bubbles of fear and dispersed themselves throughout all of the little nerves that ran down the rabbit’s spine, making sure to tickle every cell surrounding the tips of the nerves. They squeezed drops of sweat out of invisible pores on her skin and waited for the gust of wind to make the rabbit shiver in order to aid the bubbles of fear on their trek down her nervous system. It was like a million spiders crawling over someone’s arm, sticking to each individual hair and causing it to twitch away in agitation and suspicion.It would be hours before the sun rose again, being that it had just left the horizon only a few minutes ago, and the soundless evening was beginning to look hopeless. Silence engulfed even the loudest signs of existence; including the crashing waves on the sandy beach not two meadows from where the rabbit was attempting rest. It seemed like the night had finally gone lifeless, all except for the heartbeat thumping out of the small ball of fur, and because this was the only sound she heard, she assumed everything else, whatever it may be, could hear it, too, and was out to find her and rip her apart. She wondered if it was worth the risk to search for shelter beneath a tree or bush, or to find a hole to hunker down in, but decided against it, and stayed put, so as not to trail her scent all over the field.
Meanwhile, about thirty feet away, in a tiny little dirt depression, there was another animal that knew about the rabbit. He could occasionally catch a whiff of her fear when it untangled itself from the tall grasses. Once in a while he could feel the tiniest vibrations emanating from her pounding chest in the earth beneath him, and he could gauge the distance between them. He stayed where he was for three hours, waiting to see if she would move. He wanted to go find her, but how would he approach her? He didn’t want to spook her any more than she already was for fear that she would bolt. But he didn’t want her to be so frightened so he justified his forward movement by telling himself she would be happier once she was at ease. He just wanted to put her out of her obvious misery. Using the deafening silence to his advantage, he crept softly along the ground, carefully winding his flexible body around each leaf of grass.
Again, quite unfinished like “To Be Disturbed.” Any suggestions and comments would be greatly appreciated!