1/19/22 Don't Chase the Rabbit

 Don’t Chase the Rabbit

Sitting on a metal bench outside a small shop in a quaint little town, a woman sits. Streaks of her brown hair rustle back and forth, moved by the breeze of the many people passing by. So many noises all around, chatter, cute little doorbells, the never ending footsteps, but the woman can’t hear them at all. She just sits, staring at nothing, as if looking at the wind itself. A gentle smile rests on her face, not by her control, but her subconscious mimicking her thoughts; thoughts invisible to passersby, only seen in her mind's eye.

In her head she lives a different life, one that she controls, one where she can be happy or sad when she chooses, where she can go on grand adventures or just relax by a fire, where she can find love or experience loss. Even though there may be sadness in her headworld, it is under her control, exactly how she wants it, and it brings her a satisfying joy, a story well told.

The woman realizes that the headworld is damaging to her personal relationships, but fantasy is so much easier. To fall into a story has become second nature to the woman, it is as if her mind takes the reins and drags her into a new story, one she is not fully sure where it leads but can always be changed later. 

It has become like a drug to the woman, an addiction, and on the surface it may not seem bad, but reality has hit the woman. This needs to stop. The gentle smile falls flat, in her head is no longer an image of another life, but one phrase, “Don’t chase the rabbit.”

The stories begin to play like a record in her head, she tries to stop it, “Don’t chase the rabbit.” She tries to think of something, anything else, but her mind seems to be stronger than her will, “Don’t chase the rabbit.” All the good memories from her headworld play, like her life flashing before her eyes tempting her to just let go, “Don’t chase the rabbit.” She wants to but she doesn’t, she can’t, she won’t ruin her life in this way, “Don’t chase the rabbit.” Nothing.

The noises of the street flood into her ears. She notices every person that walks past, every bird that flies over, every shop door that slams shut. She is back…for now.


The End

1/19/22

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