The rabbit cackled. He was wearing an Italian suit—Armani. He carried a cane made of mahogany wood of the highest quality. It was beautifully varnished and embellished with gold accents at the top and base. He wore no shoes, and his vulnerable pink toes were strangely exposed. He cackled and leaned against the white picket fence. Everything was in pastel: the trees, the flowers, the field, the clouds. Chartreuses, glow-blues, light roses, everything was so light. I could smell the wind and I could hear the sun move across the sky; nothing seemed to stay still, and everything was in dynamic and harmonic motion. It was so strange, really. He cackled, leaning against the white picket fence from under the shade of a tree. It wasn’t really shade because sun was nowhere and everywhere. The light wove around the air and through things and bounced back so that there was neither shadow nor light, but only light. It was illumination, and it was pastel, but all at once. He cackled, leaning against the white picket fence under the tree and pointed his wooden cane at me. An albino? No, his eyes were black. Black and deep and dark like a nightmare, yet his fur milky white as a dream, and when he spoke, words fell out of his mouth, picked themselves up, and ran to assault me, followed and accentuated by cackles. “Heh-heh-heh-HA! Who are you?” Who, me? “Who are YOU?” I could only turn to look at the trees, swaying in the pungent wind, as if they could provide me with an answer. This was such a foreign question, and I could not come up with anything to say. “What are you?” I looked down at my dress. It was my favorite color: a summerleaf that had been left to age a little, dipped in sugar glaze, somewhat chartreuse. It was a simple cotton summer dress, but for some reason, it embarrassed me, and I tried to hide it. His Armani coat looked so much more sophisticated than my common garb. I did not know what to do. “I beg to differ,” I said with false confidence. “I do believe that you are not in fact a doctor, sir, are you?” I watched in both fury and fear as his face twisted in horror and morphed into an expression I was terrified to behold. It seemed as if I had struck a chord, and he had been discovered. He tried to hide his feet, but it was of no use. “I think…well, are those your toes there, sir?” “WHAT?” “I see them! I see them!” I shouted with increasing excitement and energy. “I see them! I see them! I see them! They’re right there! I see them!” I began to jump and shout and point and jump and shout and point! There was no stopping me! I got him! He had no power over me! “I SEE THEM! I SEE THEM!” My own epiphany fueled my adrenaline and exploded as I jumped higher and faster. Motion! Power! Knowledge! He began to melt! Melt to the ground! Melt into a liquid of some sort, even his Armani jacket! But his cane stayed there. “I see your feet, Sir!” I proclaimed in victory. “There is nothing you can do now.” I took his cane and drove it with dignity into the ground, straight up. There it stood, solemnly and alone in the pastel landscape, as the wind and the sun passed by it and around it. Just a mahogany stick. Writer's Note: Despite certain references, this was actually not directed towards a certain teacher. In all honesty. | 
