She was a red haired girl with
pearl white skin. There's no lurid history of unrequited desire between
us. We are schoolmates.
Incarcerated in the same bird cage with different degrees of antipathy towards
our similar circumstances. We have somethings in common. Unspoken cultural
immersions and tacit objections towards the prevailing autocracies which
permeate our being with ultra sounds of demagoguery and the blatant social
engineering of our souls. We're at the same shitty school going through the
same shitty routines. One difference being that she is essentially a nice girl
and I am essentially a bad boy. Weird bad, that is, not
"johnny-was-a-working-class-hero-fending-off-all-the-girls" kinda
bad.
In those days I kept and bred
rabbits. They are such gentle, strange, alluring and fascinating creatures; not
quite so easy to breed as you might imagine and full of curious foibles to
enjoy managing. Procuring fresh dandelion leaves and other varieties of
foodstuff led me to enlarge my knowledge of Common varieties of flora in the
British countryside. Rabbits don't like lettuce. And carrot tops should be
given to them sparingly. Never pick them up by the ears, it's cruel. (Rabbits, not red-heads).
I mentioned this rabbit habit
to her as we walked home together one time, (it was quite unusual for us to
accompany one another, I didn't spend much time with girls.) To my surprise and
delight it turned out she also had a rabbit! I'm not sure who brought up the
subject of mating my buck and her doe but the idea caught fire and penetrated
the mundanity of our trudge. Something of the fellow traveler and the
prevailing circumstances of our shitty school experience and what with it being
a pleasant day and the whole rabbit habit thing and her having such nice red
hair and so on made me enjoy having her along for my ride. Her name, as I
remember it, was Diana.
Not long afterwards I found
myself sitting in her shed and introducing my buck to her doe.
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