Existenial Stories

the sun, gently shining through the cracks and crevices of the trees, dapple the grassy natural floor. as the clouds pass, often hovering below the tip of the sun, the fallen leaves rustle. my head turns. a gracious rabbit sat there, ever so calmly on his haunches. he twitched his whiskers as his beady black eyes met mine. he was so fragile, beautiful, and visible that it seemed as though he wasn't there at all. I blinked. he's gone. but I know he's here.