The small brown rabbit buttoned up the bronze buttons of his new tweed coat and slithered along with the shadows until he had made his way into the haberdashery. He scanned the workplace for any signs of potential threats; his ears tilted forward and his nose constantly twitching. Some voices echoed faintly across the room. He slinked back into the shadows and waited until the voices dissolved into the distance. Hesitantly, he emerged farther into the light and began to make his way towards the boxes of freshly made hats. As soon as it became clear to him that no workers were near, he engulfed himself in the hats. He went through boxes and boxes of them. There were top hats and bowler hats and fedoras and many, many others. Finally, he came across the perfect page boy cap to match his new tweed coat. Unfortunately, he had gone through so many boxes of hats that the stack he had unconsciously created toppled over and crashed to the ground. The rabbit popped out of the pile with his hat firmly in his paws just to see two security guards rushing towards him. He scrambled out of the hats as he saw their shadows pooling around him. He sprinted as fast as he could and leaped out of the half-open window. He landed safely, albeit a little startled. Placing the cap on his furry head, he hopped happily to his home.

Journal entry #123 page 183

He could feel his heart pounding in his ears as he stepped up to the podium. His palms were so slick they nearly slipped off the microphone as he attempted to move it towards his dry, quivering mouth. The roaring applause died down and silence entered the gymnasium. The audience began to shift uncomfortably in their seats as they waited with cautious anticipation for the boy to speak. A cough, the hiss of whispering, and the dead silence from his front row seated parents seemed to erupt across the floor, up the stage, and into the boy's ears. He opened his mouth, but before he had the chance to form the first syllable his eyes shut and his body thumped to the ground, unconscious.

Journal entry # 125 page 187

Bop

Eerily endless emissions emanate

From the stream of vehicles lining the highway.

All the while, waste is burned –

They throw the trash to their feet.

No one gives a second thought

Eyes down, feet shuffling

Eerily empty people

Who don’t realize the damage of a single selfish thought

“Not my problem”.

 Take and take and take

But no give and give and give

To the suffering life that struggles

To hold up the demand

Of human’s grand

Until it’s too late. It’s irreversible

Then they want to help;

“It’s not my problem” becomes “this is everyone’s problem”.

But no effort must made

Only a false sense of pride

That you tried to save it.

Evening

The dead silence of the room is repeatedly interrupted by the endless ticking of the clock.
And then the rain, pattering against the window.
A crackle of the fireplace.
A field mouse scurrying under the door to escape the impending storm.
And finally, heavy boots stomping up the porch. A sigh of relief fills the still room. The coats drips from the hanger and the dog breathes heavily.
A peaceful, relaxing evening begins.

Journal entry #112
Page 171

Viewfinder Assignment

The soft shape of the bud rests surrounded by a collar of sharp, dramatic, leaves. The light caresses the blooming buds; encouraging them to awaken. Spring is here! Don't be late! Bring out the colours. Fill the air with floral scent.

They search for the sunlight they desperately need and bathe in what light they find; soaking up the richness. A halo of sunlight surrounds the impatient bulbs.

The details are brought into focus. The fuzz on the bulb and the veins on the leaves are lit up by the light shinning through. It won't be long until the green encasing will reveal what is beneath.