The Child
I walked outside a few minutes ago, in shorts and bare feet, even though it was cold. I watched my feet as I walked and imagined I was little again, walking to the rabbitry to cry to my rabbits. But there aren't anymore, there isn't even the tree that I used to sit in after we got rid of the rabbits. It is now a tall stump. I sat on the stump and wished I had rabbits to sit with, to cry with, infact, I wished I still only had petty things to cry over like I did then. But I guess I'm supposed to be mature now. Sitting there was nice, I didn't feel old. I felt childish, alone, on my stump. If a photographer would have popped out at that moment, he would have won a prize, because the whole scene was the perfect picture of loneliness. A lost forgotten little girl, sitting on a forsaken tree stump in an empty rabbitry, her past fading and her future uncertain. I wanted to run or scream til I can't breathe, slice til i can't feel... but I sat there. And wished.