The Rabbit

The dish was jam, butter and toast, a simple fare in the first world, sourdough if I recall correctly, although the flavour is irrelevant. It is the shape that set my mind to whirling immediately. Hungry when I ordered, hungry as I waited, then BAM like a batman scene, breakfast was delivered and all I felt was creativity, all I saw was jam as paint and bread as my canvas. Half a minute later Rabbit was born. A second cup of coffee downed before I could contemplate eating Rabbit, but my hunger still there, and so the nibbling started, a somewhat guilt ridden affair.
Forever since, Rabbit has always come to life when such sliced bread is in my presence.  It’s not like I see Rabbit in supermarket bread, no, Rabbit is only alive in special bread, but he is there. Rabbit is not just for my eyes; you have been introduced to Rabbit now. But think how many Rabbits are waiting to be seen, they are born in bread ovens the world over, each loaf a family of 12 of so, and that is a lot of rabbits.  I haven't met anyone else who ever saw Rabbit; I sincerely hope I'm not the only one.

SUGARBEE XX   13/11/12