brave new world

lindsay the rabbit sat up and looked around, ears straight up, eyes wide open, taking in the green haze before him. there was no sound, just the whisper of soft, springy grass sighing softly in the new breeze blowing across the clean, green, world. behind him, the cool blue mountains had begun to raise their heads, rising softly until they nudged the white clouds high above. all around the sea of green was, well, the sea -- a shifting, shimmering mix of blue, cobalt and white.

'where did they all go, mr. sea?' asked lindsay the rabbit.

mr. sea coughed, the white foam tickling his green, barnacled beard. 'swallowed,' he replied, in a voice that gurgled and giggled. 'they annoyed me for centuries, throwing in things, ruining the skies, sweeping in plastic and killing my baby fish. so, i swallowed them, man and woman, buildings and automobiles, the white house and flaming red lamborghinis. and i ground them into fine, grainy silt so the little fish could run their gills through them and laugh, tickled, all in my blue belly.'

'what about me?' asked lindsay the rabbit. 'what do i do?' mr. sea thought for a while, shaking and heaving, pushing his head this way and that, little streams of water pouring out his ears. 'there's a room for you at the foot of the first blue hill,' he said. so, lindsay the rabbit decided to take a look. and there, at the foot of the first blue hill, rose the mound of a burrow. inside, with the cool green grass above him, he found a denon dvd-700 player, a marantz amplifier, and a pair of shiny, black mission speakers. there was also a mini-bar, a long, wooden, polished bookcase chock full of margaret atwood and iris murdoch, and a little window that looked up into the face of the first blue mountain.

and so, all alone, in a green and blue world of silence, lindsay the rabbit sat himself down and poured himself a nice, large shot of vodka. adding a dash of sprite and a wedge of lemon, he hopped across to the bookcase and picked out dylan thomas. lying quietly, serenely, on his cd player, was david bowie's 'space oddity'. switching it on, lindsay the rabbit took a long, cold sip, turned to ‘fern hill’, and began to read…."oh as I was young and easy in the mercy of his means, time held me green and dying, though I sang in my chains like the sea...."

the sun was beginning to set. outside, the first blue mountain was beginning to turn grey. all around him, bowie's voice crooned, softly, eerily, the only human voice in the whole of the washed, spanking, brand new world. "planet earth is blue, and there's nothing I can do..."

lindsay the rabbit smiled to himself, quietly, in a vodka-induced haze. he lit himself a bright, white marlboro, his paws struggling to get a grip. then, eyes closed, smile fading, he thought to himself in the fading light, 'such a beautiful life....'