A Cellarful of Nose - Future Shoes

alone, to be away from you, this is the most awful truth, because
there is no denying it.
And the mother knows her little bunny is genuinely fearful of
this love. For anything that loving and that fervent is frightening.
It is of an order that no child's mind can comprehend or set limits
to.
How can you be this way to me? you want to ask. How can
you venture this foolish guarantee?
Don't you know how the world really works, that it is not
driven by love but by selfishness and fear?
That little bunnies are shaken every day by dogs? That the
innocent and unwary are run over by cars as they cross a simple
street?
Don't you know that untreated and uncared for, little bunnies
break out in sores, that parasites chew through us, that we die
bawling and whimpering and alone? And that the mothers we cry
out for never come forward, cannot find us, cannot take us in their
arms?
How can it be, then? How in the face of this obvious truth
about the big world, that the slightest glance at a newspaper
makes plain, can the mother bunny make this ridiculous promise?
What fairy tale mind believes this boast?
But the mother bunny rocks and rocks, the baby bunny close
in her arms.
It's an allegory, she explains. I am God's love, which will
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