The rabbit awakened inside a new body of cotton stuffing and lambskin painted black and white, ten times larger than the one it knew in life.
It heard a lilting, female voice alternate with a gentle male voice.
Suddenly, a pair of hands lifted it off of the clinic gift shop counter and into a plastic bag.
Through glass eyes, it saw a bespectacled woman with a "Da-hye" nametag fading into the horizon.
As the car trunk opened, it saw Satoshi smile before closing the door. "Ji-hye loves animal plushies. She'll take good care of you, pandabear".
About the Creator
James Bao
Fulfilling my childhood dream of being a “published” author through Vocal Media Plus #gohuskies
To Pimp a 6th Grader's Butterfly
My middle school had 3 PE teachers who all taught in tandem- for some reason I remember all 3 of them watched over us during PE class sessions. I was assigned to Mr. Wiles's class during 6th grade. Mr. Wiles was this beefy, bearded man with a bit of a paunch, and I don't remember much about what he was like as a PE teacher. I remember two things about what he was like as a teacher. The first is that he was fired for being caught with porn on his work laptop, which happened after I graduated from middle school. The second is that he left a comment on my first trimester report card- "James has leadership potential". When my dad saw that comment, he said it seemed like I could be a role model for other students in the class. I didn't think anything about my conduct in class was remarkable or out of the ordinary- all I did was try to follow instructions and not half-ass the exercises, even though I wasn't particularly athletic and was one of the slower people during the mile run. During my middle school career, I figured he must've mixed me up with our family friend who was in Green Hall (this had happened to us before when we were in the same swim class in elementary school). That kid was the bossy and commanding dude who commanded respect from the other kids of Chinese immigrants in our family friends' circles; he seemed like much more of a natural leader than me. But for whatever reason, the designation was stuck on my report card, and that's basically my only positive memory of Mr. Wiles.
By James Bao12 months ago in Confessions
TICK TOCK
11.59. Even though the glass had shattered, Lorna could still see that her watch ticked over. One minute until midnight. Her watch was the only thing she had that she could carry. The only thing to remember her parents by. A birthday present from last year, the year she turned seventeen.
By Elizabeth Butler4 days ago in Fiction
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