June 2023 Flash Lit 7 - Over and Over

The rabbit sighed.  By now, she should know how to do it.  It wasn’t that hard, he thought, to show up on time for him to be late.  He had been doing it over and over every magical summer day for a hundred years.

But then, he reflected, catching sight of himself in a puddle from the morning’s shower, it was different for children.  Every time, the child was genuinely surprised by the pocket watch and the waistcoat pocket.  He adjusted his waistcoat, since he was thinking about it.  It wouldn’t do for the child to find him untidy.  Unusual was all right.  Unorthodox was pushing it.  And the goal, of course, was to be underground.

 

That was where the roots were, the ones that nourished and entangled, the ones that absorbed all the damp and kept the soil from blowing away.

 

It was an ecosystem.  It didn’t work without the child, even if the child couldn’t remember to turn up on time.

 

The rabbit checked his watch again.  The shiny oily buttery surface of it mesmerized him.  He was so lucky to have it, to hold it every single day.  Waiting for the dilatory child was nothing compared to the immenseness of his joy in his watch.

 

The orderly sweep of seconds progressing to minutes and on to hours seemed to fuel his own body.  He trembled to think of what would become of him if the watch ever wound down.  It was, in fact, unthinkable.

 

He unthought it, like he did every day.  And then the child was there and he said, as always, “I’m late.”