#0041. The rabbit gives up its kingdom for an ounce of fear. Now, after abdicating its glorious throne, it huddles, nervously, twitchy and sweet. It knows what it means, now, to be alive. It feels fear coursing through its veins, and it isn't the ice water of supremacy. It's like liquid influenza. Hot and cold simultaneously. Every movement, every sound, makes him bound away. There is no trace left of the emperor.
No comments:
Post a Comment