9-26-13  3 step prompt, picked at random.  Write about –

A thought:   That bunny has nice long ears he can tug on when he’s anxious.

A feeling:    Lassitude

A sensation:  I feel as though spiders were crawling on my skin.

I awoke with a start.  The clock on the bedside table read 3:21.  I didn’t know what it was that had spooked me, but I felt as though spiders were crawling on my skin.   I pulled the covers up around my chin and rolled to my side to increase the contact on my body.  I needed that sense of being touched to feel safe.  The spiders slowly left, and I lay on my side in the dark, pondering life and my place in it.

Work had been going downhill fast.  I started something, and was overcome with lassitude halfway through the job.  I had to force myself to work these days.  Thoughts of poverty didn’t help.  Homelessness in this Valley was beginning to seem like sitting in the lap of luxury.  What could I do to motivate myself?  Lying in bed until 7 am wouldn’t do it anymore.  Clients don’t stand for lateness more than two or three times.  Pretty soon the calls would become few and far between.  I resolved to do better, and closed my eyes.

When I awoke, it was 7:30, and the alarm clock had been shut off.  Now I knew I was in trouble.  I didn’t even remember my self-destructive behavior anymore.  I threw my clothes on, brushed teeth and hair, and ran to the van.  My resolution had been hijacked by fate.

Painting in the morning went well.  Carpentry and a bit of trim work went okay in the afternoon. That evening, the newly installed toilet leaked for fifteen minutes before I tightened the right bolt.  I didn’t dare charge what the job was worth.  I felt bad for the client because my heart didn’t seem to be in it.

I dragged myself home and collapsed into bed.  Isn’t this where it all started?  Come on, spiders, do your thing.  I thought about writing for a little while, but couldn’t come up with anything.  Good for me.  First workers block, and now writers block.  I pulled the blanket tight, the autistic in me wanting full contact.

The clock read 3:11 when I awoke this time.  Still black as night.  Funny, that expression.  Could you use it when describing nighttime?  I rolled over and turned on the light, squinting to avoid the “sudden light” headache.  I sensed a small movement in the far corner of the bedroom, and sat bolt upright.  There, sitting in the corner of my bedroom, was a larger than life cartoon bunny, dressed in a light blue suit with black slippers on.  It sat there, looking scared and glum, and pulled on it’s ears.  I didn’t know which of us was more surprised.

From my position in bed, I studied the bunny for a while without making a move or sound.  I didn’t want to scare the little thing.  I did for a moment wonder where reason had gone.  Perhaps I was actually still asleep.  I pinched myself on the left arm, not hard enough to really hurt but just to check.  When I did this, I saw the bunny flinch.  Curiouser and curiouser.  I tipped my head to the side a bit, and the bunny blinked.  I crossed my legs and folded my hands in my lap.  Bunny looked ready to run through the wall.  Should I?  I wondered.  What the hell.

“Excuse me,” I said in a quiet voice, “but can I help you with something?”

Bunny leaned forward a bit, and wiggled its nose at me.  It did release it’s ears and sit back a bit, looking slightly more relaxed.

“Are you a boy bunny or a girl bunny?”  I said.

Can you imagine a rabbit giving me a look as though I was the biggest moron it had ever met?  Cocked head, cocked eyebrow.

“Would you like to join me up here where it’s cozy?” I asked.

Bunny hesitated a bit, then moved forward and hopped up onto the bed, scrabbling with its hind legs for traction and moving over to my side. I lay down facing the bunny and just looked at it.  It hunkered down, closed its eyes, and was asleep.

Well, as Robert Heinlein once said, “There was nothing I could do, so I took a nap.”  I rolled over to turn the light off, and lay myself down to sleep.

When I woke up in the morning, it was a minute to five; my usual time to rise, and the bunny was still there.  I got up fior my morning ablutions, came in to dress, and got out of the house to go to work.  Mr. Bunny would have to fend for himself.

I felt good about work, and the bunny stayed with me for a good long while.  We became companions, and motivators.  I kept working, and the bunny relaxed in my company.  I had no idea what it did while I was out for the day, but it was always there in the evening.  Welcome home.