Princess sleeping under pale moonlight
Blissfully unaware of the mischievious hare
Lurking closer and closer
Periodically sniffing the air
Something was off
Something was not right
Usually unconscious wanderers in the forest were a snow rabbits delight
But tonight this bunny felt cautious or might give himself a fright
Lingering closer still because forest creatures always bend to curiosity's will
Wonder if maybe the young woman had fallen ill
Then realization the scent reminded the young fur of fresh kill
Flashes of amber eyes and razor fangs flooded the bunny's vision
Frozen with fear believing he'd gotten to near and help would certainly be too far away to hear
Lay slain upon the ground was no small creature or dear
This was much larger prey
Possibly by the same predators earlier that day
Instincts screamed for the hare not to stay
Hurry, thaw your paws and run fast and far away
Which is exactly what he did and didn't stop until he was able to see the light of day
About the Creator
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Red Shelves
Death is a black hole. Think about it. A black hole is the corpse of a star, something once warm and bright, now come to the end of its life cycle. But some will argue that the cycle of life does not end with death. That death is merely another path we must walk once our bodies expire and our souls ascend. In that moment, when the fuel in the star’s chemical tank hits empty and the shiny matte coat explodes into supernova, the mass left behind – the corpse – becomes a black hole. We understand that, around such a vast cadaver, dimensions work a little differently in death to the way we’re used to in life. For example, light cannot escape the pull of a black hole when it hits the point of no return. That’s where it gets its colour. Space itself is contorted by a black hole. That’s where it gets its funny shape. Even time. Time slows right down the closer you get to it. The closer you get to a black hole. The closer you get to death.
By Matthew Curtis7 days ago in Humans
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