Rose was watching the small rabbit who had been playing on the lawn for an hour. Rose wondered about the second rabbit from yesterday but closed her mind to its destiny as all above her head, the plastic roof tapped away in the wind until sunshine returned again to her garden.
Each of Rose’s eyes returned a different view of the world and this contrast made everything she encountered slightly quizzical, hanging between possibilities, oddly tense at the same time. Her green grey eye made the world still; measured and proportional. Memorable like a painting installed in a gallery with neat details beneath it. Settled somehow.
The violet eye always looked forwards to something surprising . Three steps ahead of logic, dancing away to intuition and instinct. Daring tenderness and recklessness combined.
The rabbit was now looking at her. She had to do something today. So she rooted out her boots and put on her battered beret. This house confined her to simple things- mealtimes, reading, talking. When you could recognise and name every detail in your day then your day had to change. Rose was out for a change. Let me have things wider she asked no one in particular- knowing that this was a lie. She wanted to find God or some spiritual guide who could give her direction and promise.PROMISE she declared and finished tying up her left boot, stamping her foot to the promise of promise.