Miranda Mondl

Bunny in Arcadia

As the moon crested in the black sky, only the silent twinkle of stars and wisps of clouds joining it on this night, a woman appeared at the end of the lane of houses. This lane was lined with identical houses with well kept lawns and flower beds. There was no nonsense here, and this woman most certainly wouldn’t be welcomed here if the inhabitants were awake. She limped down the lane, her left hand hanging limply and dripping blood down it and in her right arm was a baby bundled in a blanket that was a reflection of the night sky. This woman wore gauntlets, heavy metal boots, a chest plate and under the armor was a blood red dress that was torn and dirty. She had one eye closed against the blood dripping down her face into her eye from her hair line. Her sunset-colored curls were matted with blood, ash, and dirt. She stopped at the end of the walkway of number thirteen and hobbled up to the stairs. She looked down at the baby in her arms and smiled gently.