The Day After The Rabbit Story

.10:25 pm

The very next day it commenced. The beginning was certain. Certainly. Even without a further ado and right up the nearest tree. It was determined that there was more than enough room and they entered single file being careful not to look forward. In the first act, the same characters kept doing the same things and it looked like it was going to end that way. One person turned to another and they looked at each other and it was understood that this was the thing to do. They kept thinking that way and that's pretty much it. Plants mattered. Vegetables were considered.

When it was time to start over again, he took the silent approach. He figured - hey, if I just take a little piece and let myself enjoy that, then it'll be easier when it comes time to fill the drawers with water. He watched them argue and wondered whether he should consider it amusing. And it started over again. They had arranged for things to fit a particular schedule involving strobe lights and old tape recordings. Voices taken literally and in unison they stopped. A moment of reverberation. Silence.

It continued. That kind of day was in the works - this thing long expected. People over there were talking about it. You could hear accents redefined and quotation marks sat quietly. They were getting ready to shred it up. So they were divided up and little marks were made. Differentiation. Say that again. The next thing was to make sure the right series of buttons were pushed in just the right way. Oh yeah. That'll do it. And it kept starting.

As it moved forward a few people showed up to cheer it on. He was standing next to the one that didn't say anything. It was like all you had to do was fold your arms and everything would just work itself out. It moved forward enveloping a series of things laid before it. Munching the outer shell of a predetermined diagnosis. What the hell is that supposed to mean? Oh, I see, he saw - it's a scheme. They were gonna pull it off. That's when it started. It started over again.

The first thing you noticed about it was the first thing you noticed about it and that was the pulse. It oozed a pulse. Its pulse pulsed. Like it was inside you. Mathematical rhythm proving a direct association between things you know and all the shades of green. Random rhythm derived from the precise number of heartbeats you can stuff into an olive. A changing rhythm that just began. And then it started to pulse.

But wait. Starting was not possible. There had to be something else first - something that could start the starting. They stopped and thought about that. It was postulated that potatoes perhaps. Possibly. An initial condition was required - one that would facilitate the starting. And that's what they're talking about when they say that you can talk about it. It might be something digital: it might. Maybe a time thing - like starting backwards - to the after the before. And just like that it started all over again.

He sat down himself this time and took it on himself to do all the thinking about it. It heated up. The funny thing is how he kept looking at himself that way out of the corner of his eye. So if you're uncomfortable about it then just don't think about it - right? Start with that. That's what he thought. He started thinking that.