The Human Rabbit
The Human Rabbit By E. M. Areson He woke up in his burrow and rolled off his side and onto his legs. The smell of Earth filled his nose and it twitched from side to side. He forced it to stop. Humans didn’t have twitchy noses. He walked to the small fragment mirror and looked at himself. He was bland. Brown eyes and brown fur. Hair, humans have hair. He tried to stand on his back legs then looked at himself. If I walked on my back legs I’d need clothes like they had. Why aren’t they real? I would love to see a real human. He set down on all his paws again. Looking at himself one last time. Turning he used his mouth to pull a loose leaf back into his pile of bedding. It tasted a little old in his mouth and he reminded himself to change bedding tonight. He climbed out of the burrow and blinked in the bright sun. Hopping down a path the deer had made he hurried to the library. He couldn’t be late. Suddenly a white hoof was on the path ahead; he stopped in reverence if ...